A  LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


A   NOVEL. 


BY 


REBECCA   HARDING   DAVIS, 


AUTHOR   OF 


DALLAS  GALBRAITH,"   "KITTY'S  CHOICE,"   "WAITING  FOR  THE  VERDICT, 
"LIFE  IN   THE  IRON   MILLS,"   ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1878. 


Copyright,  1877,  by  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  Co. 


1  J.  n.UPPIKCOTffc-CO'/S 

"~  "^ 


PS 


A   LAW  UNTO    HERSELF. 


O1 


CHAPTER   I. 

a  raw,  cloudy  afternoon  in  early 
spring  a  few  years  ago  a   family- 
"^  carriage  was  driven  slowly  down  a  lone- 
rH  ly  road  in  one  of  the  outlying  suburbs 
j§5  of  Philadelphia,  stopping  at  last  in  front 
"^  of  an  apparently  vacant  house.     This 
house  was  built  of  gray  stone,  and  stood 
r  "\    back  from  the  road,  surrounded  by  a  few 
)    sombre  pines  and  much  rank  shrubbery: 
shrubbery  and  trees,  and  the  house  itself, 
had  long  been  abandoned  to  decay. 
r--      "  Heah  am  de  place,  sail,"  said  the 

CO    -  .  ,  . 

cr>  footman,  opening  the  carnage-door. 

An  old  gentleman  in  shabby  clothes, 
.  embellished  dramatically  by  a  red  neck 
tie,  an  empty  sleeve  pinned  to  his  breast, 
sprang  out  briskly ;  a  lady  followed,  and 
stood  beside  him  :  then  a  younger  man, 
his  head  muffled  in  a  close  fur  cap,  a 
yellow  shawl  wrapped  about  his  neck, 
^  looked  feebly  out  of  the  window.     His 
2?  face,  which  a  pair  of  pale,   unkindled 
eyes  had   never  lighted  since  he  was 
<n  born,  had  been  incomplete  of  meaning 
•z.  in  his  best  days,  and  long  illness  had 
=^  only  emphasized  its  weakness.     He  half 
rose,  sat  down  again,  stared  uncertainly 
at  the  house,  yawned  nervously,  quite 
indifferent  to  the  fact  that  the  lady  stood 
waiting  his  pleasure.     His  money  and  his 
bodily  sufferings — for  he  was  weighted 
heavily  with  both — were  quite  enough,  in 
$  his  view,  to  give  him  the  right  to  engross 
5  the  common  air  and  the  service  of  other 
*  men  and  women.     Indeed,  a  certain  in 
domitable  conceit  thrust  itself  into  view  in 
his  snub  nose  and  retreating  chin,  which 
made  it  highly  probable  that  if  he  had 
been  a  stout  day-laborer  in  the  road  yon 
der,  he  would  have  been  just  as  compla 
cent  as  now,  and  have  patronized  his  fel 
lows  in  the  ditch. 

"Will  you  take  my  arm,  William?" 
said  the  old  man  waiting  in  the  road. 
"This  is  the  house." 

"No.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  drop  the 
whole  matter.  Why  should  I  drag  out 
the  secrets  of  the  grave  ?  God  knows, 
I  shall  find  them  out  soon  enough !" 


"Just  so.  Precisely.  It's  a  miserable 
business  for  this  April  day.  Now,  I  don't 
want  to  advise,  but  shall  we  drive  out  on 
the  Wissahickon  and  fish  a  bit  ?  You'll 
catch  a  perch,  and  Jane  shall  broil  il 
over  the  coals,  eh?" 

"  Oh,  of  course  I'm  going  through 
with  it,"  scowling  and  blinking  through 
his  eye-glasses.  "  But  we  are  ten  min 
utes  before  the  time.  I  can't  sit  in  a 
draughty  room  waiting.  Tell  David  to 
drive  slowly  down  the  road  until  four, 
Captain  Swendon." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  with  the  ner 
vous  conciliatory  haste  of  a  man  long 
used  to  being  snubbed. — "You  hear  Mr. 
Laidley,  David  ?  —  We'll  arrange  it  in 
this  way,  then.  Miss  Fleming  and  I  will 
stroll  down  the  road,  William,  until  the 
time  is  up. — No,  Jane,"  as  his  daughter 
was  going  to  leave  the  carriage.  "Stay 
with  your  cousin."  The  captain  was  his 
peremptory  self  again.  Like  every  man 
conscious  of  his  own  inability,  he  assert 
ed  himself  by  incessant  managing  and 
meddling  for  his  neighbors. 

The  carriage  jolted  down  the  rutted 
road.  The  little  man  inside  tossed  on 
the  well-padded  cushions,  and  moaned 
and  puffed  spasmodically  at  his  cigar. 

Buff  and  David,  stiff  in  green  and 
gold  on  the  box,  nodded  significantly  at 
each  other.  "He's  nigh  unto  de  end," 
said  Buff.  "  De  gates  of  glory  am  creak- 
in'  foh  him." 

"Creakin1,  shore  nuff.  But  'bout  de 
glory  I'm  not  so  shore.  Yoh  see,  I 
knows,"  rubbing  his  gray  whiskers  with 
the  end  of  the  whip'.  "  I  have  him  in 
charge.  Mass'  Swendon  gib  orders : '  Yoh 
stick  by  him,  Dave.'  'S  got  no  friends: 
*s  got  no  backbone.  Why,  wid  a  twinge 
ob  toothache  he  squirms  like  an  eel  in 
de  fire — swears  to  make  de  debbil  turn 
pale.  It'll  be  an  awful  sight  when  Death 
gits  a  holt  on  him.  But  I'll  stick." 

Captain  Swendon  and  Miss  Fleming, 
left  alone  under  the  pines,  both  turned 
and  looked  at  the  house  as  if  it  were  an 
open  grave. 


2GS893 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"So  it  is  here  the  dead  are  to  come 
back?"  said  the  captain  with  a  feebly- 
jocular  giggle.  "  We'll  go  down  the  road 
a  bit.  Ton  my  soul,  the  atmosphere  here 
is  ghastly." 

They  struck  into  the  meadows,  saunter 
ed  through  a  strip  of  woodland  where  the 
sparrows  were  chirping  in  the  thin  green 
boughs  overhead,  and,  crossing  some 
newly -ploughed  fields,  came  suddenly 
upon  a  row  of  contract-houses,  bold,  up 
right  in  the  mud,  aggressively  new  and 
genteel.  They  were  tricked  out  with 
thin  marble  facings  and  steps.  A  drug- 
shop  glittered  already  at  one  end  of  the 
block,  and  a  milliner's  furbelowed  win 
dow  closed  the  other  with  a  red-lettered 
sign,  which  might  have  served  as  a  mot 
to  for  the  whole:  "Here  you  buy  your 
dollar's  worth  of  fashion  for  your  dime 
of  cash." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  captain,  "no  ghostly 
work  here!  —  the  last  place  where  one 
would  look  for  any  miraculous  stoppage 
of  the  laws  of  Nature." 

"Stoppage,  you  should  say,  of  the  so 
cial  laws  of  '  gents '  and  their  ladies, 
which  are  much  more  inexorable,"  said 
his  companion.  "  Oh  I  know  them  !" 
glancing  in  at  the  windows,  as  she  tramp 
ed  through  the  yellow  mud,  with  keen, 
amused  eyes.  "I  know  just  what  life 
must  be  in  one  of  these  houses  —  the 
starving  music-teacher  on  one  side  of 
you,  and  the  soapboiler  on  the  other : 
the  wretched  small  servant  going  the 
rounds  of  the  block  to  whiten  the  steps 
every  evening,  while  the  mistresses  sit 
within  in  cotton  lace  and  sleazy  silks, 
tinkling  on  the  piano,  or  counting  up  the 
greasy  passbook  from  the  grocer's.  Im 
agine  such  a  life  broken  in  upon  by  a 
soul  from  the  other  world  !" 

"  Yet  souls  go  out  from  it  into  the  other 
world.  And  I've  known  good  women 
who  wore  cheap  finery  and  aped  gen 
tility.  Of  course,"  with  a  sudden  gusty 
energy,  "/  don't  endorse  that  sort  of 
thing ;  and  1  don't  believe  the  dead  will 
come  back  to-day.  Don't  mistake  me," 
shaking  his  head.  The  captain  was  al 
ways  gusty  and  emphatic.  His  high- 
beaked,  quick-glancing  face  and  owlish 
eyes  were  ready  to  punctuate  other  men's 


thoughts  with  an  incessant  exclamation- 
point  to  bring  out  their  true  meaning. 
Since  he  was  a  boy  he  had  known  that 
he  was  born  a  drill-sergeant  and  the  rest 
of  mankind  raw  recruits.  "Now,  there's 
something  terribly  pathetic  to  me,"  he 
said,  "in  this  whole  expedition  of  ours. 
The  idea  of  poor  Will  in  his  last  days 
trying  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  coun 
try  to  which  he  is  going !" 

Cornelia  Fleming  nodded,  and  let  the 
subject  drop.  She  never  wasted  her 
time  by  peering  into  death  or  religion. 
She  belonged  to  this  world,  and  she 
knew  it.  A  wise  racer  keeps  to  the 
course  for  which  he  has  been  trained, 
and  never  ventures  into  the  quagmires 
beyond.  She  stopped  beside  a  tiny  yard 
where  a  magnolia  tree  spread  its  bare 
stalks  and  dull  white  flowers  over  the 
fence,  and  stood  on  tiptoe  to  break  a 
bud.  The  owner  of  the  house,  an  old 
man  with  a  box  of  carpenter's  tools  in 
his  hand,  opened  the  door  at  the  moment. 
She  nodded  brightly  to  him.  "  I  am  rob 
bing  you,  sir.  For  a  sick  friend  yonder," 
she  said. 

He  came  down  quickly  and  loaded 
her  with  flowers,  thinking  he  had  never 
heard  a  voice  as  peculiar  and  pleasant. 
The  captain,  a  little  behind,  eyed  her 
critically  from  head  to  foot,  his  mouth 
drawn  up  for  a  meditative  whistle,  as 
she  stood  on  tiptoe,  her  arm  stretched 
up  among  the  creamy  buds.  The  loose 
sleeve  fell  back :  the  arm  was  round 
and  white. 

"  Very  good  !  ve-ry  good  !"  the  whistle 
meant ;  "  and  I  know  the  points  of  a  fine 
woman  as  well  as  any  of  these  young 
fellows." 

Two  young  fellows,  coming  up,  linger 
ed  to  glance  at  the  jimp  waist  and  finely- 
turned  ankle,  with  a  shrug  to  each  other 
when,  passing  by,  they  saw  her  homely 
face. 

The  captain  gallantly  relieved  her  of 
her  flowers,  and  paraded  down  the  road, 
head  up,  elbows  well  out,  as  he  used, 
thirty  years  ago,  to  escort  pretty  Virgin- 
ie  Morot  in  the  French  quartier  of  New 
Orleans.  It  was  long  since  he  had  rel 
ished  conversation  as  he  did  with  this 
frank,  generous  creature.  No  coquetry 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


5 


about  her !  It  was  like  talking  to  a  clev 
er,  candid  boy.  Every  man  felt,  in  fact, 
with  Cornelia,  that  she  was  only  a  young 
er  brother.  He  liked  the  hearty  grasp 
of  her  big  white  hand ;  he  liked  her 
honest,  downright  way  of  stating  things, 
and  her  perfect  indifference  to  her  own 
undeniable  ugliness.  Now,  any  other 
woman  of  her  age — thirty,  eh  ?  (with  a 
quick  critical  glance) — would  dye  her 
hair :  she  never  cared  to  hide  the  streaks 
of  gray  through  the  yellow.  She  had 
evidently  long  ago  made  up  her  mind 
that  love  and  marriage  were  impossible 
for  women  as  unprepossessing  as  she : 
she  stepped  freely  up,  therefore,  to  level 
ground  with  men,  and  struck  hands  and 
made  friendships  with  them  precisely  as 
if  she  were  one  of  themselves. 

The  captain  quite  glowed  with  the 
fervor  of  this  friendship  as  he  marched 
along  talking  energetically.  A  certain 
subtle  instinct  of  kinship  between  them 
seemed  to  him  to  trench  upon  the  su 
pernatural  :  it  covered  every  thought  and 
taste.  She  had  a  keen  wit,  she  grasped 
his  finest  ideas :  not  even  Jane  laughed  at 
his  jokes  more  heartily.  She  appreciated 
his  inventive  ability :  he  was  not  sure 
that  Jane  did.  There  were  topics,  too, 
on  which  he  could  touch  with  this  ma 
ture  companion  that  were  caviare  to  Jane. 
It  was  no  such  mighty  matter  if  he  blurt 
ed  out  an  oath  before  her,  as  he  used  to 
do  in  the  army.  Something,  indeed,  in 
the  very  presence  of  the  light,  full  figure 
keeping  step  with  his  own,  in  the  heavy 
odor  of  the  magnolias  and  the  steady 
regard  of  the  yellowish-brown  eyes,  re 
vived  within  him  an  old  self  which  be 
longed  to  those  days  in  the  army — a  self 
which  was  not  the  man  whom  his  daugh 
ter  knew,  by  any  means. 

They  were  talking  at  the  time,  as  it 
happened,  of  his  military  experience  :  "  I 
served  under  Scott  in  Mexico.  Jane  thinks 
me  a  hero,  of  course.  But  I  confess  to 
you  that  I  enlisted,  in  the  first  place,  to 
keep  the  wolf  out  of  the  house  at  home. 
1  had  spent  our  last  dollar  in  manufac 
turing  my  patent  scissors,  and  they  — 
well,  they  wouldn't  cut  anything,  unless 
— I  used  to  suspect  Atropos  had  borrow 
ed  them  and  meant  to  snip  the  thread 


for  me,  it  was  stretched  so  tightly  just 
then." 

She  looked  gravely  at  his  empty  sleeve. 

The  captain  caught  the  glance,  and 
coughed  uncomfortably  :  "  Oh,  I  did  not 
lose  that  in  the  service,  you  understand. 
No  such  luck !  Five  days  after  I  was 
discharged,  after  I  had  come  out  of  every 
battle  with  a  whole  skin,  I  was  on  a  rail 
way-train  going  home.  Collision  :  arm 
taken  off  at  the  elbow.  If  it  had  hap 
pened  just  one  week  earlier,  I  should 
have  had  a  pension,  and  Jane —  Well, 
Jane  has  had  a  rough  time  of  it,  Miss 
Fleming.  But  it  was  my  luck !" 

They  had  returned  through  the  woods, 
and  were  in  sight  again  of  the  house 
standing  darkly  among  the  pines.  Two 
gentlemen,  pacing  up  and  down  the  soli 
tary  road,  came  down  the  hill  to  meet 
them. 

"Tut!  tut!  It  is  that  Virginia  lawyer 
who  has  come  up  to  get  into  practice 
here — Judge  Rhodes.  You  know  him, 
Miss  Fleming.  There's  an  end  to  our 
quiet  talk.  That  fellow  besieges  a  wo 
man  with  his  click-clack :  never  leaves 
a  crack  for  a  sensible  man  to  edge  in  a 
word." 

Miss  Fleming  turned  her  honest  eyes 
full  on  his  for  a  moment,  but  did  not  speak. 
The  captain's  startled,  foolish  old  heart 
throbbed  with  a  feeling  which  he  had  not 
known  since  that  day  in  the  boat  on  the 
bayou  when  Virginie  Morot  first  put  her 
warm  little  hand  in  his.  Virginie  as  a 
wife  had  been  a  trifle  of  a  shrew.  Love 
in  the  remembrance  often  has  a  bitter 
twang.  But  this  was  friendship!  How 
sweet  were  the  friendship  and  confidence 
of  a  woman  !  Pretty  women  of  late  years 
approached  the  captain  in  his  fatherly 
capacity,  much  to  his  disrelish.  A  man 
need  not  have  his  gray  hairs  and  rheu 
matism  thrown  in  his  teeth  at  every  turn. 
Miss  Fleming,  now,  saw  beneath  them  : 
she  saw  what  a  gallant  young  fellow  he 
was  at  heart.  He  looked  down  at  her 
eagerly,  but  she  was  carelessly  inspect 
ing  the  judge  and  his  companion. 

"Who  is  the  fair-haired,  natty  little 
man  ?" 

"Oh!  Phil  Waring,  a  young  fellow 
about  town.  Society  man.  Too  fond 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


of  cards.  Nice  lad,  but  no  experience  : 
no  companion  for  you,  Miss  Fleming." 

A  vague,  subtle  change  passed  over 
her.  It  was  no  definable  alteration  in 
mind  or  body,  yet  a  keener  observer 
than  the  captain  might  have  suspected 
a  readjustment  of  both  to  suit  some  pos 
sible  new  relation. 

Mr.  Waring  and  the  judge  joined  them, 
and  they  all  walked  together  toward  the 
house,  engrossed  with  their  errand.  Miss 
Fleming  never  expected  from  men  the 
finical  gallantry  usually  paid  to  young 
ladies,  and  even  the  gallant  Virginian  did 
not  give  it  to  her.  The  captain  indeed, 
perceiving  that  she  was  occupied  with 
Judge  Rhodes,  gave  her  up  to  his  escort. 
"It  is  almost  four.  I  will  go  down  the 
road  and  find  the  carriage  and  William," 
he  said,  and  left  them. 

Judge  Rhodes,  as  they  drew  near  the 
house,  regarded  it  darkly  :  "  Decay  ! 
death  and  decay !"  waving  his  pudgy 
red  hands  theatrically.  "  A  gloomy 
gate  indeed,  through  which  the  dead 
might  well  choose  to  return." 

"  I  should  call  it  a  badly-set  stage  for 
a  poor  melodrama,"  said  Miss  Fleming 
coolly. 

"  But  your  character  is  so  practical ! 
You  are  fortunate  in  that."  The  judge, 
who  was  a  stout,  bald  man,  gazed  at  the 
house  with  vague  abstraction  and  dilating 
nostrils.  "Now,  I  am  peculiarly  suscep 
tible  to  spiritual  influences.  I  have  been 
since  a  boy  as  sensitive  to  pain,  to,  ah — 
sympathies,  to  those,  ah — electric  cords, 
as  Byron  says,  wherewith  we're  darkly 
bound,  as — as  a  wind -harp.  I  really 
dread  the  effect  upon  myself  of  the  rev- 
'elations  of  to-day." 

Miss  Fleming  was  silent.  The  judge, 
as  she  knew,  was  one  of  those  shrewd 
common-sense  men  who,  when  lifted  out 
of  their  place  into  the  region  of  senti 
ment  or  romance,  swagger  and  generally 
misconduct  themselves,  like  a  workman 
conscious  of  his  ill-fitting  Sunday  finery. 

One  or  two  carriages  drove  up  to  the 
gate  and  stopped. 

"  Who  are  those  people,  Mr.  Waring  ?" 
said  the  judge,  dropping  into  his  ordi 
nary  tone. 

Mr.  Waring  put  on  his  eye-glasses. 


He  knew  everybody,  and  had  as  keen 
an  eye  and  strong  an  antipathy  for  ec 
centric  characters  in  conventional  Phila 
delphia  as  a  proof-reader  for  false  type. 
"There  is  Dehr,  the  German  homoeopath 
and  Spiritualist,"  he  said  in  a  little  mild 
voice,  which  oddly  reminded  Miss  Flem 
ing  of  the  gurgling  flow  of  new  milk. 
"That  woman  marching  before  him  is 
his  wife." 

"  I  know,"  muttered  the  judge  — 
"  strong  -  minded.  Most  extraordinary 
women  turn  up  every  day  here.  This 
one  lectures  on  hygiene.  Mad,  un 
doubtedly." 

"Oh  no,"  said  Waring — "very  dull, 
good  people,  both  of  the  Dehrs.  Not 
two  ideas  to  share  between  them.  But 
there  are  a  dozen  tow-headed  youngsters 
at  home  :  they  drive  the  old  people  into 
such  out-of-the-way  courses  to  scratch  for 
a  living.  That  man  in  white  is  the  great 
Socialist,  Schaus.  The  others  are  scien 
tific  fellows  from  New  York  and  Boston." 

"  I  wish  Van  Ness  was  here,"  said 
the  judge,  nodding  ponderously.  "Van 
Ness  is  better  known  in  Richmond  than 
any  other  Philadelphian,  sir.  Most  re 
markable  man.  Science  is  well  enough 
as  far  as  it  goes,  but  for  clear  intelli 
gence,  give  me  Pliny  Van  Ness." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Waring  grave 
ly.  "Great  reformer,  I  hear.  Don't 
meet  him  in  society.  Of  a  new  family." 

"Mr.  Laidley  objected  to  his  coming,  ' 
said  Cornelia. 

"  He  did,  eh  ?  I'm  astonished  at  that," 
said  the  judge.  "  I  consider  Van  Ness — 
But  Laidley  had  the  right  to  object,  of 
course.  The  meeting  is  one  of  the  cap 
tain's  famous  schemes — to  amuse  Laid 
ley.  But  they  tell  me  that  he  knows  he 
is  dying,  and  has  determined  to  bring  a 
certain  spirit  out  of  the  other  world  to 
ask  an  important  question." 

"I  should  think,"  said  Miss  Fleming 
dryly,  "Mr.  Laidley  would  always  re 
quire  supernatural  aid  to  make  up  his 
mind  for  him.  After  I  talk  to  him  I 
have  the  feeling  that  I  have  been  hand 
ling  froth.  Not  clean  froth  either." 
When  Miss  Fleming  made  the  men  and 
women  about  her  the  subjects  of  her 
skill  in  dissection,  her  voice  took  a  neat 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


incisive  edge,  suggestive  of  the  touch  of 
a  scalpel.  Little  Mr.  Waring,  pulling  his 
moustache  thoughtfully,  studied  her  for  a 
moment  without  reply. 

"Hoh!"  laughed  the  judge.  "You 
have  a  keen  eye !  There  can  be  no 
doubt,"  suddenly  sobering,  "that  Laid- 
ley  has  been  uncommonly  fast.  But  his 
blood  is  good — none  better  in  Maryland. 
High-toned  family,  the  Laidleys.  Mr. 
Waring  here  could  give  you  his  life  chap 
ter  by  chapter  if  he  would.  But  he  would 
skip  over  the  dirty  bits  as  carefully  as  he 
is  doing  in  the  road." 

"  Laidley's  life  is  so  very  nearly  over," 
suggested  Mr.  Waring  quietly. 

There  was  an  awkward  silence  of  a 
moment. 

"Now,  I  can't  understand,"  blustered 
the  judge,  "how  Captain  Swendon  can 
nurse  that  fellow  as  tenderly  as  he  is 
doing.  I've  got  my  share  of  humanity 
and  forgiveness,  and  all  that.  But  if 
any  man  had  thrust  my  wife  and  child 
out  of  their  property,  as  he  has  done,  he 
had  better  have  kept  out  of  my  sight, 
sir.  I  know  all  about  them,  you  see,  for 
two  generations.  Captain's  wife  was  a 
New  Orleans  girl  —  Virginie  Morot.  It 
wasn't  a  matter  of  property :  it  was  star 
vation.  Poor  little  Virginie — pretty  crea 
ture  she  was  too!  —  would  have  been 
alive  to-day,  there's  no  doubt  of  it,  if 
she  could  have  had  proper  food  and 
medicines.  And  there's  his  daughter ! 
What  kind  of  a  life  has  she  had  for  a  girl 
with  such  blood  in  her  veins  ?  Why,  if 
I  should  tell  you  the  sum  on  which  that 
child  has  supported  herself  and  her  fa 
ther  in  Baltimore  and  here  since  her 
mother  died,  you  wouldn't  believe  me. 
And  Laidley  did  nothing  for  them.  Not 
a  penny !  Under  the  circumstances  it 
was  a  crime  for  him  to  be  alive." 

"  What  were  the  circumstances  ?"  ask 
ed  Miss  Fleming. 

"  The  property,  you  understand,  was 
old  Morot's  —  Morot  of  New  Orleans. 
Virginie  was  his  only  child  :  she  married 
Swendon,  and  her  father  came  to  live 
with  them  in  Baltimore.  The  two  men 
were  at  odds  from  the  first  day.  Old 
Morot  was  a  keen,  pig-headed  business 
man  :  he  knew  nothing  outside  of  the  to 


bacco  -  trade ;  worked  in  the  counting- 
house  all  day  ;  his  o'ne  idea  of  pleasure 
was  to  swill  port  and  terrapin  half  the 
night.  Swendon —  Well,  you  know  the 
captain.  He  was  a  brilliant  young  fel 
low  in  those  days,  full  of  ideas  that  never 
came  to  anything  —  an  invention  every 
month  which  was  to  make  his  fortune. 
They  quarreled,  of  course  the  wife  sided 
with  her  husband,  and  Morot,  in  a  fit 
of  rage,  left  the  whole  property  to  his 
nephew,  Will  Laidley.  When  he  was  on 
his  deathbed,  however,  the  old  man  re 
lented  and  sent  for  Laidley.  It  was  too 
late  to  alter  the  will,  but  he  charged  him 
to  do  justice  to  his  daughter.  Laidley 
has  told  me  that  much  himself.  But  it ' 
never  occurred  to  him  that  justice  meant 
anything  more  than  to  keep  the  estate, 
and  allow  it  at  his  death  to  revert  to  Jane 
and  her  father." 

"Well,  well!"  cried  Mr.  Waring  has 
tily,  "  that  cannot  be  far  off  now.  Laid 
ley  is  so  nearly  a  thing  of  the  past,  judge, 
that  we  might  afford  to  bury  his  faults 
with  him,  decently  out  of  sight." 

"  I  can't  put  out  of  sight  the  years  of 
want  for  Virginie  and  her  child  while  he 
was  throwing  their  money  to  the  dogs  in 
every  gambling -hell  in  Baltimore  and 
New  York.  Why,  the  story  was  so  well 
known  that  when  he  came  down  to  Rich 
mond  he  was  not  recognized,  sir  !  Not 
recognized.  He  felt  it.  Left  the  county 
like  a  whipped  cur." 

"Yet,  legally,  the  money  was  his  own," 
remarked  Cornelia. 

"Oh,  legally,  I  grant  you!  But  mor 
ally,  now — "  The  judge  had  counted 
on  Miss  Fleming's  sympathy  in  his 
story.  Only  the  day  before  he  had  seen 
the  tears  come  to  her  eyes  over  his  hurt 
hound.  He  was  disappointed  that  she 
took  little  Jane's  misfortunes  so  coolly. . 
"Of  course  this  sort  of  crime  is  unappre- 
ciable  in  the  courts.  But  society,  Vir 
ginia  society,  knows  how  to  deal  with  it." 

"I  happen  to  know,"  said  Waring, 
"that  Laidley's  will  was  made  a  year 
ago,  leaving  the  whole  property  to  Miss 
Swendon." 

"And  he  knows  that  in  the  mean  time 
she  is  barely  able  to  keep  herself  and  her 
father  alive.  Pah-h !" 


8 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"Really,  Jane  has  quite  a  dramatic 
history,  and  you  are  precisely  the  per 
son  to  tell  it  with  effect,  judge,"  said 
Miss  Fleming,  smiling  good-humored- 
ly,  with  that  peculiar  affable  intonation 
which  always  numbs  the  hearer  into  a 
conviction  that  his  too  excessive  emotion 
is  being  humored  as  the  antics  of  an  ill- 
disciplined  child. 

The  judge  grew  red. 

"Yes,"  continued  Miss  Fleming,  her 
eyes  upon  him,  "Jane  is  pretty.  Your 
zeal  is  excusable."  The  road  was  mud 
dy  at  this  point,  and  she  passed  on  in 
front  of  them,  picking  her  steps. 

"Damn  it!"  said  the  judge,  "they're 
all  alike  !  No  woman  can  be  just  to 
a  pretty  face.  I  thought  this  girl  had 
sense  enough  to  lift  her  above  such 
petty  jealousy." 

"She  is  not  jealous,"  said  Waring, 
looking  critically  at  her  back  as  he  ar 
ranged  his  thin  tow-colored  moustache. 
"  She  is  an  Arab  among  her  own  sex.  It's 
a  common  type  in  this  part  of  the  coun 
try.  She  fraternizes  with  men,  horses 
and  Nature,  and  sneers  at  other  women 
as  she  would  at  artificial  flowers  and  per 
fumery.  I  don't  know  Miss  Fleming, 
:but  I  know  her  class  very  well." 

The  Virginian,  whose  blood  revolted 
at  this  censure  of  a  lady,  rushed  to  the 
rescue  :  "  She's  honest,  at  any  rate.  No 
mean  feminine  tricks  about  her.  She's 
offensively  truthful.  And,  after  all,  she's 
right :  "Swendon  is  a  good-for-nothing,  a 
well-born  tramp ;  and  Jane  is  hardly  a 
subject  for  pity.  She's  a  remarkably 
healthy  girl ;  a  little  dull,  but  with  more 
staying  power  in  her  than  belongs  to  a 
dozen  of  those  morbid,  strong-minded 
women  of  yours  in  the  North.  I  suppose 
I  do  let'my  sympathy  run  away  with  me." 

They  joined  Cornelia  and  entered  the 
broken  gate.  The  door  of  the  house 
swung  open  at  a  touch.  Within  were 
bare  halls  and  rooms  covered  with 
dust,  the  'floors  of  which  creaked  drear 
ily  under  their  tread.  Following  the 
sound  of  stifled  voices,  they  went  up  to 
a  large  upper  chamber.  The  walls  of 
this  room  were  stained  almost  black ;  a 
thick  carpet  deadened  the  floor;  the  solid 
wooden  shutters  were  barred  and  heavily 


curtained.  They  made  their  way  to  the 
farther  end  of  the  room,  a  little  apart 
from  a  group  of  dark  figures  who  talked 
together  in  whispers.  Miss  Fleming  no 
ticed  a  nervous  trepidation  in  the  man 
ner  of  both  men,  and  instantly  became 
grave,  as  though  she  too  were  more 
deeply  moved  than  she  cared  to  show. 

The  whispers  ceased,  and  the  silence 
was  growing  oppressive  when  steps  were 
heard  upon  the  stairs. 

"Hoh!"  puffed  the  judge.  "Here  is 
Laidley  at  last." 


CHAPTER  II. 

IT  was  not  Laidley  who  entered,  but 
Mrs.  Combe,  then  the  most  famous  clair 
voyant  in  the  United  States.  According 
to  statements  of  men  both  shrewd  and 
honest  she  had  lately  succeeded  in  bring 
ing  the  dead  back  to  them  in  actual  bod 
ily  presence.  The  voice  was  heard,  then 
the  spirit  slowly  grew  into  matter  beside 
them.  They  could  feel  and  see  its  warm 
flesh,  its  hair  and  clothing,  and  even  while 
they  held  it  it  melted  again  into  the  im 
palpable  air,  and  was  gone.  The  account 
was  attested  by  persons  of  such  integrity 
and  prominence  as  to  command  atten 
tion  from  scientific  men.  They  knew, 
of  course,  that  it  was  a  trick,  but  the 
trick  must  be  so  well  managed  as  to  be 
worth  the  trouble  of  exposure.  Hence, 
Mrs.  Combe  upon  her  entrance  was  re 
ceived  with  silent,  keen  attention. 

She  was  a  tall  pillar-like  woman,  with 
some  heavy  drapery  of  black  velvet  or 
cloth  about  her :  there  were  massive 
coils  of  coarse  black  hair,  dead  narrow 
eyes  of  the  same  color,  a  closely-shut 
jaw  :  no  point  of  light  in  the  figure,  but 
a  rope  of  unburnished  gold  about  her 
neck.  She  stood  with  her  hands  drop 
ped  at  her  sides,  immovable,  while  her 
husband,  a  greasy  little  manikin  with  a 
Jewish  face,  turned  on  the  light  and 
waved  the  attention  of  the  audience  to 
her:  "This  is  Miriam  Combe,  the  first 
person  since  the  Witch  of  Endor  who  has 
succeeded  in  materializing  the  shpirits 
of  the  dead.  Our  meeting  here  to-day 
is  under  peculiar  shircumstances.  A 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


zhentleman  unknown  to  me  and  Mrs. 
Combe,  but  who,  I  am  told,  is  near 
death,  desires  to  recall  the  shpirit  of  a 
dead  friend.  Zhentlemans  will  reconize 
the  fact  that  the  thing  we  propose  to  do 
depends  upon  the  states  of  minds  and 
matters  about  us.  If  these  elements  are 
disturbed  by  unbelief  or  by  too  much 
light  or  noise  when  the  soul  shtruggling 
to  return  wants  silence  and  darkness, 
why — it  cannot  make  for  itself  a  body — 
dat's  all." 

"  You  compel  belief,  in  a  word,  before 
you  prove  to  us  that  we  ought  to  believe," 
said  a  professor  from  a  Baptist  college  in 
New  Jersey,  smiling  blandly  down  upon 
him.  "Scientifically — " 

"I  knows  noting  of  scientifics.  I 
knows  dat  my  wife  hash  de  power  to 
ashist  de  souls  to  clode  demselves  wid 
matter.  I  don't  pretend  to  explain  where 
she  got  dat  power,  I  don't  know  what 
ish  dat  power :  I  only  know  she  hash  it. 
If  zhentlemans  will  submit  to  the  condi 
tions,  they  shall  zhoodge  for  demselves." 

"  Now,  the  ignorance  of  this  man  im 
presses  me  favorably,"  said  the  professor 
to  his  friends.  "  He  is  evidently  incapa 
ble  of  inventing  a  successful  trick  even 
of  conjuring.  If  any  great  unknown 
force  of  Nature  has  chosen  him  or  his 
wife  as  tools,  we  should  not  despise  the 
manifestation  because  the  tools  are  very 
gross  matter.  They  are  the  steel  wire 
charged  with  the  lightning,  perhaps." 

Dr.  Dehr  came  forward  and  touched 
the  motionless  woman,  shaking  his  head 
solemnly:  "She  is  highly  charged  with 
electricity  now,  sir.  The  air  is  vital,  as 
I  might  say,  with  spiritual  presences.  I 
have  no  doubt,  gentlemen,  before  we 
part,  that  we  shall  see  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  phenomena  of  the  nineteenth 
century." 

"  How  well  she  poses!"  whispered  Miss 
Fleming  to  the  judge.  "But  the  stage- 
properties  are  bad:  the  velvet  is  cotton, 
and  the  gold  brass-gilt." 

"  Now,  to  me,"  said  the  judge  emphat 
ically,  "  there  is  a  dreadful  reality,  a  dead 
look,  in  her  face.  What  Poe  would  have 
made  of  this  scene  !  There  was  a  man 
who  could  grapple  with  these  supreme 
mysteries  !  No  !  that  woman  undoubt 


edly  has  learned  the  secret  of  life  and  of 
death.  She  can  afford  to  be  passive." 
The  judge's  very  whisper  was  judicial, 
though  pulpy. 

It  was  not  possible  that  the  woman 
should  have  heard  them,  yet  a  moment 
after  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  motioned 
slowly  toward  them. 

"God  bless  my  soul,  ma'am!  You 
don't  want  me !"  cried  the  judge. 

Waring  half  rose,  laughing,  but  with 
cold  chills  down  his  backbone,  and  then 
dropped  into  his  seat,  relieved :  "  You 
are  the  chosen  victim,  Miss  Fleming." 

Cornelia  went  up  to  the  medium.  She 
was  confident  the  whole  affair  was  a  vul 
gar  trick,  but  there  was  a  stricture  at  her 
heart  as  if  an  iron  hand  had  been  laid 
upon  it.  The  energy  went  out  of  her 
step,  the  blood  from  her  face. 

The  woman  laid  her  hand  on  her  arm. 
"  I  need  you,"  she  said  in  a  deep  voice. 
"  You  have  great  magnetic  force :  you 
can  aid  this  soul  to  return  to  life  if  you 
will.  Sit  there."  She  placed  both  her 
hands  lightly  on  Cornelia's  forehead. 
Miss  Fleming  dropped  into  the  seat : 
she  could  not  have  done  otherwise. 

"Before  we  opens  the  seance,"  pro 
ceeded  Combe,  "zhentlemans  can  ex 
amine  de  cabinet  and  convince  dem 
selves  dere  is  no  trick." 

The  cabinet  was  a  light  triangular 
structure  of  black  walnut,  about  seven 
feet  in  height,  placed  in  one  corner  of 
the  room,  though  with  an  open  space 
between  it  and  the  wall.  It  moved  on 
casters  :  the  door  was  on  the  side  facing 
the  audience.  Miss  Fleming  observed 
with  amusement  that  the  seat  given  her 
removed  her  to  the  farthest  distance  from 
this  door. 

"  You  will  notish  dat  dere  is  absolute 
ly  noting  in  de  cabinet  but  a  chair — 
zhoost  de  walls  and  de  floor  and  de  chair. 
Miriam  will  sit  there,  and  de  door  will  be 
closed.  When  it  opens  you  will  see  de 
embodied  spirit  beside  her." 

"Hillo!"  cried  the  judge,  "what's 
this  behind  the  cabinet?" 

"  It  is  a  window  overlooking  de  gar 
den  :  I  had  it  boarded  up  to  prevent 
you  sushpecting  me  of  trickery.  But 
you  sushpect  mine  boards,  mein  Gott! 


10 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


Exshamine  dem,  exshamine  dem !  Go 
outside." 

The  judge  did  so.  "They  are  screw 
ed  on  honestly  enough,"  he  said  to  the 
spectators.  "A  ghost  had  need  of  a  bat 
tering-ram  to  come  through  that  window. 
It  opens  on  an  area  thirty  feet  deep." 

The  woman  went  into  the  cabinet  and 
the  door*  was  closed.  Steps  were  heard 
upon  the  stairs. 

"It  ish  de  zhentleman  who  calls  for 
de  shpirit  to  appear,"  said  Combe  in  a 
whisper. 

The  door  opened,  and  Laidley,  sup 
ported  by  Captain  Swendon,  entered, 
giving  a  quick  appealing  look  about  him 
as  he  halted  for  a  moment  on  the  thresh 
old.  The  dignity  of  approaching  death 
was  in  his  weak,  ghastly  face,  and  the 
judge  rose  involuntarily,  just  as  he  would 
have  stood  uncovered  if  a  corpse  had 
gone  by.  Laidley  took  the  seat  which 
the  captain  with  his  usual  bluster  placed 
for  him  opposite  the  door  of  the  cabinet. 
Combe  turned  out  the  lights :  the  room 
was  in  absolute  darkness.  The  judge 
moved  uneasily  near  to  Waring :  "  Don't 
laugh  at  me,  Mr.  Waring.  But  I  really 
feel  that  there  is  a  Presence  in  this  room 
which  is  not  human.  I  wish  I  had  lis 
tened  to  my  wife.  She  does  not  approve 
of  this  sort  of  thing  at  all :  she  thinks  no 
good  churchman  should  meddle  with  it. 
But  there  is  something  in  the  room." 

"Yes,  I  am  conscious  of  what  you 
mean.  But  it  is  a  physical  force,  not 
spiritual.  Not  electricity,  either.  It  is 
something  which  has  never  affected  my 
senses  before.  Whatever  it  is,  it  is  the 
stock  in  trade  of  these  people." 

They  were  ordered  by  Combe  to  join 
hands,  and  everybody  obeyed  excepting 
the  captain's  daughter,  who  stood  unno 
ticed  by  one  of  the  curtained  windows. 

A  profound  silence  followed,  broken 
by  a  stifled  sob  from  some  over-nervous 
woman.  The  low  roll  of  an  organ  filled 
the  void  and  died.  After  that  there  was 
no  complete  sound,  but  at  intervals  the 
silence  took  breath,  spoke  in  a  half-ar 
ticulate  wail,  and  was  dumb  again. 

Pale  nebulous  light  shone  in  the  cab 
inet  and  faded :  then  a  single  ray  fell 
direct  on  Laidley's  face.  It  stood  out 


from  the  night  around  like  a  bas-relief 
—  livid,  commonplace,  a  presentment 
of  every-day  death.  Each  man  present 
suddenly  saw  his  own  grave  open,  and 
the  world  beyond  brought  within  reach 
through  this  insignificant  man. 

"  The  spirits  of  many  of  the  dead  are 
present,"  said  the  sepulchral  voice  within 
the  cabinet.  "What  do  you  ask  of  them  ?" 

Laidley's  lips  moved  :  he  grasped  the 
arms  of  his  chair,  half  rose :  then  he 
fumbled  mechanically  in  his  pocket  for 
his  cigar-case,  and  not  finding  it  sank 
back  helplessly. 

"What  do  you  ask  of  them?  Their 
time  is  brief." 

"  I'm  a  very  ill  man,"  he  piped  feebly : 
"  the  doctors  give  me  no  hope  at  all.  I 
want  advice  about  a  certain  matter  before 
— before  it's  too  late.  It  is  a  great  wrong 
I  have  done  that  I  want  to  set  right." 

"  Can  any  of  the  dead  counsel  you  ? 
Or  do  you  summon  one  soul  to  appear  ?" 

"There  is  but  one  who  knows." 

"Call  for  her,  then." 

Laidley  looked  about  him  uncertain 
ly  :  then  he  said  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"Virginie  Morot!" 

The  captain  sprang  to  his  feet :  "  My 
wife  ?  No,  no  !  for  God's  sake  !" 

The  light  was  swiftly  drawn  back  into 
the  cabinet  and  extinguished.  After 
several  minutes  the  voice  was  heard 
again :  "  The  spirit  summoned  is  pres 
ent.  But  it  has  not  the  force  to  resume 
a  material  body  unless  the  need  is  urgent. 
You  must  state  the  question  you  would 
have  answered." 

"I  must  see  Virginie  here,  in  bodily 
presence,  before  I'll  accept  any  answer," 
said  Laidley  obstinately.  "I'll  have  no 
hocus-pocus  by  mediums  or  raps.  If 
the  dead  know  anything,  she  knows  why 
I  need  her.  I  have  had  money  to  which 
she  had  a — well,  a  claim.  I've  not  spent 
it,  perhaps,  in  the  best  way.  I  have  a 
mind  now  to  atone  for  my  mistake  by 
leaving  it  to  a  charity  where  I  know  it 
will  do  great  good." 

An  amazed  whistle  broke  through  the 
darkness  from  the  corner  where  the  judge 
sat.  The  captain  caught  Laidley's  shoul 
der.  "William,"  he  whispered,  "surely 
you  forget  Jane." 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


II 


Laidley  shook  him  off.  "The  money 
is  my  own,"  he  said  loudly,  "to  do  with 
as  I  choose.  But  if  Virginie  can  return 
from  the  dead,  she  shall  decide  for  me." 

"It's  enough  to  bring  her  back,"  mut 
tered  the  judge.  "Do  you  hear  that?" 
thumping  Waring's  knee  —  "  that  miser 
able  shrimp  swindling  her  child  in  order 
to  buy  God's  good-will  for  himself!" 

There  was  a  prolonged  silence.  At 
last  a  voice  was  heard :  "  She  will  ap 
pear  to  you." 

The  organ  rolled  heavily,  low  soft 
thunders  of  music  rose  and  fell,  a  faint 
yellowish  vapor  stole  out  from  under  the 
cabinet  and  filled  the  darkness  with  a  vis 
ible  haze.  Captain  Swendon  stumbled 
to  his  feet  and  went  back  to  his  daugh 
ter  :  "  I  can't  bear  it,  child !  I  can't  bear 
it !"  dropping  into  a  chair. 

She  took  his  hand  in  her  own,  which 
were  quite  cool,  and  stroked  and  kissed 
it.  But  she  did  not  speak  nor  take  her 
eyes  from  the  door  of  the  cabinet. 

It  opened.  Within  sat  Miriam,  im 
movable,  her  eyes  closed'.  Beside  her 
stood  a  shadowy  luminous  figure  covered 
with  a  filmy  veil.  It  moved  forward  into 
the  room.  So  thick  was  the  vapor  that 
the  figure  itself  appeared  but  a  shade. 

Laidley  stooped  forward,  his  hands  on 
his  knees,  his  lips  apart,  his  eyes  dilated 
with  terror. 

The  veil  slowly  fell  from  the  face  of 
the  spirit,  and  revealed,  indistinctly  as 
the  negative  of  a  photograph,  a  small 
thin  woman  with  eager,  restless  eyes, 
and  black  hair  rolled  in  puffs  high  on  the 
head  in  the  fashion  of  many  years  ago. 

"Virginie!"  gasped  Laidley. 

The  captain  shuddered,  and  hid  his 
face.  His  daughter,  with  a  quick  step 
backward,  threw  aside  the  curtains  and 
flung  open  the  shutters.  The  broad 
daylight  streamed  in. 

Combe  sprang  toward  her  with  an 
oath. 

The  young  girl  held  back  the  curtain 
steadily.  "We  need  fresh  air,"  she  said 
smiling  resolutely  in  his  face. 

The  rush  of  air,  the  daylight,  the 
cheerful  voice  wakened  the  room  as  out 
of  a  vision  of  death.  The  men  started 
to  their  feet ;  there  was  a  tumult  of  voices 


and  laughter ;  the  materialized  soul  stag 
gered  back  to  reach  the  cabinet.  The 
whole  of  the  cheap  trickery  was  bared  : 
her  hair  was  an  ill-fitting  wig,  the  chalk 
lay  in  patches  on  her  face,  the  vapor  of 
Hades  was  only  salt  burning  in  a  dish  : 
the  boards  removed  from  the  window 
showed  her  snug  hiding-place  inside. 

Dr.  Dehr's  fury  made  itself  heard 
above  the  confusion  :  "  You  have  brought 
Spiritualism  into  disrepute  by  your  in 
fernal  imposture !"  clutching  the  poor 
wretch  by  the  shoulder,  while  another 
intemperate  disciple  called  loudly  for 
the  police.  The  woman  began  to  sob, 
but  did  not  utter  a  word. 

"  Let  her  go,  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Waring, 
coming  up.  "We  paid  to  see  a  farce, 
and  it  was  really  a  very  nice  bit  of  act 
ing.  This  poor  girl  was  hired,  no  doubt : 
she  is  only  earning  her  living." 

"What  has  she  done?"  cried  Dehr. 
"  Spiritualism  in  Philadelphia  never  has 
attracted  the  class  of  investigators  that 
are  here  to-day,  and  she — "  shaking  her 
viciously — "she's  an  impostor!" 

"Damnation!  she's  a  woman  ["wrench 
ing  his  hand  from  her.  She  gave  Waring 
a  keen  furtive  glance,  and  drew  quickly 
aside.  While  some  of  the  seekers  after 
truth  demanded  their  five  dollars  back 
with  New  England  obstinacy,  and  Combe 
chattered  and  screeched  at  them,  she 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  immo 
vable,  her  sombre  sallow  face  set,  her 
tawdry  stage-properties  about  her — the 
crown  of  false  black  hair,  the  sweeping 
drapery,  the  smoking  dish  with  fumes 
of  ghastly  vapor. 

Mr.  Waring  went  up  to  a  short,  broad 
ly-built  man  in  gray  who  had  been  seat 
ed  in  the  background  during  the  seance. 
"  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  in  town 
or  here,  Mr.  Neckart,"  he  said  with  a 
certain  marked  respect.  "That  is  not 
an  unpicturesque  figure,  I  think.  She 
would  serve  as  a  study  of  Night,  now— 
a  stormy,  muggy  town-night,  full  of  ooze 
and  slime."  Mr.  Waring's  manner  and 
rhetoric  were  uneasy  and  deferential.  Mr. 
Neckart  was  a  power  in  a  region  quite 
outside  of  the  little  fastidious  gossiping 
club  of  men  and  women  whom  he  was 
wont  to  call  the  World. 


12 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"Your  Night,  apparently,  has  little  rel 
ish  for  the  morning,"  he  said. 

The  woman's  threatening  eyes,  in  fact, 
were  fixed  on  the  tall  fair  girl,  the  cap 
tain's  daughter,  who  stood  in  the  window, 
busied  with  buttoning  her  father's  over 
coat  and  pinning  his  empty  sleeve  to  his 
breast.  She  was  looking  up  at  him,  and 
talking :  the  wind  stirred  her  loose  pale- 
gold  hair ;  behind  her  branches  of  white 
roses  from  a  vine  outside  thrust  them 
selves  in  at  the  window :  the  birds  chirp 
ed  in  the  rustling  maples  beyond. 

"  What  a  wonderful  effect  of  light  and 
color !"  said  Waring,  who  had  lounged 
through  studios  and  galleries  enough  to 
enable  him  to  parcel  out  the  world  into 
so  many  bits  of  palette  and  brush-work. 
"  Observe  the  atmosphere  of  sunshine 
and  youth.  Cabanel  might  paint  the  girl's 
face  for  the  Dawn.  Eyes  of  that  profound 
blue  appear  to  hold  the  light  latent." 

"There  seems  to  be  unusual  candor  in 
them,"  said  Mr.  Neckart,  glancing  care 
lessly  at  Jane  again,  and  drawing  on  his 
gloves.  "A  lack  of  shrewdness  remark 
able  in  aA  American  woman." 

"  The  Swendons  are  Swedes  by  descent, 
you  know.  A  little  phlegm,  a  lack  of 
paseion,  is  to  be  expected,  eh  ?  Now, 
my  own  taste  prefers  the  American  type 
— features  animated  by  a  nimbler  brain  ; 
as  there,  for  example,"  looking  toward 
Miss  Fleming.  "Ugly  beyond  apology. 
But  there  is  a  subtle  attraction  in  it." 

"No  doubt  you  are  right.  I  really 
know  very  little  about  women,"  indiffer 
ently.  He  nodded  good-evening,  glan 
cing  at  his  watch  as  he  went  out. 

The  captain  was  conscious  of  some 
malignant  influence  at  his  back,  and 
turning,  saw  the  woman,  who  had  grad 
ually  approached,  and  now  stood  still. 
He  hastily  stepped  between  her  and  his 
daughter :  "  Good  God  !  Stand  back, 
Jane !  This  woman  is  following  you." 

"  She  looks  as  if  she  had  the  evil  eye. 
But  they  are  very  fine  eyes,"  said  the 
young  girl,  inspecting  her  quietly,  as  if 
she  had  been  a  toad  that  stood  suddenly 
upright  in  her  way. 

"I  owe  you  an  ill  turn,  and  I  shall  pay 
it,"  said  the  woman  with  a  tragic  wave 
of  the  arms.  "  I  had  a  way  to  support 


myself  and  my  boy  for  a  year,  and  you 
have  taken  it  from  me." 

"  It  was  such  a  very  poor  way !  Such 
a  shabby  farce  !  And  it  was  my  mother 
that — "  She  stopped,  a  slight  tremor  on 
the  fair,  quiet  face. 

"Oh,  I  shall  pay  you !"  The  woman 
gathered  her  cheap  finery  about  her  and 
swept  from  the  room. 

In  the  confusion  Judge  Rhodes  had 
sought  out  Laidley,  full  of  righteous 
wrath  on  behalf  of  his  friend  the  cap 
tain,  against  this  limp  fellow  who  was 
going  to  enter  heaven  with  a  paltering 
apology  for  dishonesty  on  his  lips.  Laid 
ley,  however,  was  reclining  in  the  easy- 
chair  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  the  closed 
eyes  gave  so  startling  an  appearance 
of  death  to  the  face  that  the  judge  was 
thrown  back  in  his  headlong  charge. 
"Why,  why,  William!  I'm  sorry  to  see 
you  looking  so  under  the  weather,"  he 
said  kindly. 

Laidley's  eyes  began  to  blink :  he 
smiled  miserably  :  "  It's  too  late  to  throw 
the  blame  on  the  weather,  judge.  Though 
I'm  going  back  to  Aiken  next  week.  I 
came  North  too  soon." 

"  This  affair  has  turned  out  a  more  pal 
pable  humbug  than  I  expected,"  trying 
to  approach  the  point  at  issue  by  a  gentle 
roundabout  ascent.  "I  wish  Van  Ness 
had  been  here — Pliny  Van  Ness.  There's 
a  man  whose  advice  I  seek  since  I  came 
to  Philadelphia  on  all  important  matters. 
A  man  whose  integrity,  justice —  God 
bless  me,  William !  You  must  know 
Pliny  Van  Ness.  Why  don't  you  take 
his  counsel,  instead  of  meddling  with 
these  wretched  mediums  ?  Raising  the 
dead  to  tell  you  what  to  do  ?  Bah  !  If 
you  had  asked  me,  now — " 

Laidley  had  drawn  himself  up  in  the 
chair,  his  watery  eyes  gathering  a  faint 
eagerness:  "Sit  down.  Here.  I  wish 
to  speak  to  you,  judge.  Nobody  will 
hear  us." 

"  Certainly.  As  you  ask  me  now —  I 
know  the  whole  case.  Don't  try  to  talk  : 
it  only  makes  you  cough.  You  want  to 
say  that  the  property — " 

"  I  want  to  say  nothing  about  the  prop 
erty.  My  will  was  made  last  week.  I 
am  determined  to  throw  my  means  into 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


that  channel  where  it  will  best  contribute 
to  God's  service.  He  will  not  scorn  a 
late  repentance.  But  Van  Ness — it  was 
about  Van  Ness  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you." 

"  If  your  will  was  made  last  week,  why 
did  you  try  to  bring  back  poor  dead  Vir- 
ginie  to  advise  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Laidley,  coughing 
nervously  —  "I  don't  know.  I  thought 
she  would  confirm  me —  I  —  I  want  to 
be  just  to  her  daughter,  God  knows  !" 

"What  is  your  idea  of  justice  ?" 

"Why  this  —  this,"  eagerly,  catching 
the  judge's  red,  fat  hand  in  his  cold  fin 
gers.  "  Jane  will  be  a  woman  whom  Van 
Ness  would  be  apt  to  approve.  I  know 
he's  fastidious.  But  she's  very  delicate 
and  fair  —  as  fine  a  bit  of  human  flesh 
as  I  ever  saw.  As  for  mind,  she  has 
none.  A  mere  child.  He  could  mould 
her — mould  her.  Eh  ?  I  think  I  could 
throw  out  an  inducement  which  would 
lead  him  to  look  favorably  on  her — when 
she's  of  a  marriageable  age,  that  is.  If 
the  girl  were  married  to  such  a  man 
as  Van  Ness,  surely  she  would  be  well 
placed  for  life.  Nobody  could  blame 
me  for  not  making  an  heiress  of  her." 

"Jane?  Van  Ness?"  said  the  judge 
thoughtfully.  "  Well,  Van  Ness  is  a  man 
whom  any  woman  in  the  country  should 
be  proud  to  marry.  But  he  is  impreg 
nable  to  that  sort  of  thing.  And  Jane 


is  but  a  child,  as  you  say.  The  scheme 
seems  to  me  utterly  unfeasible,  Laidley. 
Besides,  what  has  it  to  do  with  her  claims 
on  you  ?" 

"  It  has  everything  to  do  with  them. 
I  give  her  instead  of  money  a  home  and 
husband  such  as  no  money  can  buy. 
They  must  be  brought  together,  judge. 
You  must  do  it.  I  have  a  word  to  say 
to  Van  Ness  that  will  open  his  eyes  to 
her  merits.  I  will  plant  the  seed,  as  I 
might  say.  It  will  grow  fast  enough." 

The  judge  was  silent  as  he  helped 
Laidley,  still  talking  eagerly,  down  the 
stairs  and  into  his  carriage.  The  whole 
fantastic  scheme  was,  as  he  saw,  the 
cowardly  device  of  the  dying  man  to 
appease  his  conscience.  That  this  poor 
creature  should  have  any  power  to  in 
fluence  Van  Ness,  the  purest  and  strong 
est  of  men,  was  a  mere  bit  of  bragga 
docio,  which  surely  did  not  deceive  even 
Laidley  himself. 

But  what  could  he  do  ?  To  stab  with 
reproach,  even  to  argue  with  this  nerve 
less,  worn-out  man,  flaccid  in  mind  and 
body,  seemed  to  the  kindly  old*fellow  as 
cruel  as  to  torture  a  dying  fish  or  other 
cold-blooded  creature  of  whose  condi 
tion  or  capacity  for  suffering  he  could 
have  no  just  idea. 


CHAPTER   III. 

CAPTAIN  SWENDON,  with  the  ma- 
V^  jority  of  his  sex,  was  never  less  a 
hero  than  when  at  home.  Brute  force,  od, 
backbone,  whatever  you  call  the  resistant 
power  which  keeps  a  man  erect  among 
other  men,  weakens  under  the  coddling  of 
feminine  fingers  and  the  smoke  of  conju 
gal  incense.  The  aching  tooth,  the  gnaw 
ing  passion  or  the  religious  problem 
that  strikes  across  his  life  like  a  blank 
wall,  all  of  which  he  pooh-poohs  out  of 
sight  in  the  street,  master  him  indoors. 
A  woman  puts  on  her  noblest  virtues 
with  the  fireside  slippers,  but  to  a  man 
they  are  a  chance  for  remorse,  for  re 
pining,  for  turning  God's  mighty  judg 
ments  on  himself  into  a  small  drizzling 
shower  of  miseries  for  his  wife  and  the 
children.  Give  the  same  man  his  boots 
and  the  fresh  air,  and  he  will  go  to  the 
stake  .gallantly. 

The  captain,  pacing  up  and  down  the 
garden-alleys  that  night,  thinking  of  the 
blow  which  would  fall  on  his  daughter 
in  Laidley's  threatened  disposal  of  his 
property,  was  not  altogether  unheroic. 
There  was  nothing  mean  in  the  big  gaunt 
figure  with  its  uncertain  strides,  or  in  the 
high-featured,  mild-eyed  face :  neither 
was  there  anything  mean  in  his  wrath. 
It  was  all  directed  against  himself.  His 
Swedish  blood  had  infused  a  gentle  lazi 
ness  into  his  temper,  and  he  had  forgiven 
Laidley  long  ago  for  his  lifelong  swindle, 
as  no  American  with  English  grandfa 
thers  would  have  done. 

"  It's  Will's  nature,"  he  said  now. 
"Will's  a  coward  and  desperately  ill. 
He  wants  to  pay  his  way  into  heaven, 
and  I  can't  blame  him.  But  I- — I'm  an 
incompetent  fool !  I  can't  even  pay  my 
girl's  way  on  earth  !"  The  captain's  life, 
in  fact,  was  a  long  ague  of  feverish  con 
ceit  and  chills  of  humility.  Yesterday 
he  was  an  inventor  who  would  benefit 
the  world :  to-day  he  was  fit  for  nothing 
but  to  dig  clams.  Going  up  and  down 
the  lonely  walk,  he  summed  up  all  the 
14 


capital  he  had  had  to  make  his  fortune 
in  the  world's  market — the  education,  the 
opportunities,  the  great  inventions  that 
all  fell  just  short  of  their  aim.  For  him 
self,  he  did  not  want  money.  His  work 
bench,  his  iron  bed,  a  bowl  of  Jane's 
soup,  a  fishing-rod  and  a  tramp  into  the 
hills  now  and  then  with  the  girl, — if  he 
had  millions  they  could  buy  him  nothing 
better.  But  she —  Why  should  she  not 
be  as  other  women  ?  Why  could  he  not 
work  for  her  as  other  fathers —  ? 

He  raised  his  right  arm,  and  the  empty 
sleeve  fell  back  from  the  stump,  which 
burned  and  throbbed  impotently.  There 
was  will  enough  in  it  to  conquer  the 
whole  world  for  her.  There  was  that 
aching  love  which  mothers  feel  in  his 
breast  for  her,  as  though  his  heart  were 
physically  wrenched. 

But  at  breakfast  the  next  morning, 
while  quite  as  ready  to  die  for  her,  he 
nagged  and  scolded  incessantly,  and 
thfew  the  blame  of  their  ill-luck  on  her, 
his  voice  sounding  like  the  clatter  of  a 
brass  kettle:  "Omelette?  No — no  ome 
lette  for  me.  I  am  quite  content  to  break 
fast  on  dry  bread  and  coffee.  It  is  time 
we  practiced  economy.  I'll  make  out  a 
system  for  you,  Jane.  A  system,  and  I 
desire  you  to  follow  it." 

Jane  laughed  and  helped  him  to  cher 
ries,  and  then  devoted  herself  in  earnest 
to  her  own  breakfast.  She  never  argued 
with  anybody,  and  had  that  impregnable 
good -humor  which  so  often  passes  for 
lack  of  feeling.  Little  griefs,  either  her 
own  or  those  of  other  people,  dwindled 
out  of  notice  in  the  atmosphere  about 
her,  like  mosquitoes  buzzing  in  a  large 
sun-lighted  room. 

"  We  certainly  must  practice  economy. 
God  knows  where  to-morrow's  meals  may 
come  from  !" 

"Jane's  hens  are  in  good  laying  con 
dition,  and  there  are  the  cherries  on  the 
tree,"  said  Miss  Fleming  tartly.  She  did 
not  like  Jane  nor  any  other  woman,  but 
she  usually  fought  for  her  sex  against 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


men  in  a  mannish  way  —  for  the  pleas 
ure  of  fighting  for  the  weaker  party. 

"Hens?  Yes,  and  but  for  the  whim 
of  renting  this  tumble-down  house  with 
its  great  gardens  out  on  the  suburb,  we 
could  have  had  snug  rooms  in  some  bu 
siness  street,  where  I  could  have  earned 
our  bread  and  butter." 

"  It  was  your  whim,  captain.  Why,  she 
has  kept  up  the  table  out  of  the  garden, 
and  you  know  it.  Don't  interfere  with 
the  child.  She  can  turn  a  penny  to  the 
best  advantage.  Her  ability  is  of  the 
most  practical  kind." 

The  captain  did  not  like  her  tone.  He 
glanced  uneasily  at  Jane,  who  ate  her 
cherries  in  calm  unconsciousness. 

"  I  might  as  well  stick  pins  in  the  di 
vine  cow  Audhumbla!"  Miss  Fleming 
said  to  herself  every  day.  This  child, 
as  she  called  her,  irritated  her,  just  as  a 
machine  did,  or  an  animal,  or  any  other 
creature  whose  motive-power  she  could 
by  no  means  comprehend.  She  was 
herself  a  mass  of  vitalized  nerves,  all 
of  which  centred  in  that  secret  I,  Cor 
nelia  Fleming,  over  whose  hopes,  nature 
and  chances  she  brooded  night  and  day. 
This  other  woman,  who  simply  grew  in 
her  place,  concerning  herself  no  more 
about  her  own  mind,  body  or  future  than 
the  larch  yonder  did  about  its  roots  or 
leaves,  and  who  took  praise  and  blame 
as  indifferently  as  the  tree,  the  sun  or 
rain,  roused  in  her  a  feeling  of  active  dis 
like.  She  called  Jane  stolid  to  other  peo 
ple,  but  she  was  by  no  means  satisfied 
that  she  was  stolid.  She  was  often  sorry 
that  she  had  brought  herself  measurably 
under  the  protection  of  Captain  Swen- 
don  and  his  daughter  by  renting  two  of 
the  rooms  in  their  house,  though  she  had 
planned  and  manoeuvred  a  long  time  to 
accomplish  that  end.  When  Miss  Flem 
ing  came  up  to  town  to  join  the  art-class 
at  the  Academy,  she  was  exceedingly 
careful  not  to  join  also  the  emancipated 
lonely  sisterhood,  who  set  social  laws  at 
defiance.  She  might  live  alone,  but  it 
must  be  under  the  roof  of  conventional 
ly  correct  people.  She  abjured  the  whole 
tribe  of  literary  and  artistic  adventurers 
who  haunted  the  studios  and  lecture-halls. 
She  wrote  home  to  he.r  old  mother  that 


the  Swendons,  descended  from  the  lead 
ers  of  the  first  Swedish  settlers,  that  fam 
ily  of  Svens  from  whom  Penn  bought 
the  land  for  his  village  of  Philadelphia, 
had  possessed  culture  and  social  rank,  if 
no  money,  for  centuries.  Miss  Fleming 
found  for  herself  a  lodging-place  under 
their  roof,  with  very  much  the  motive  of 
the  low-born  blackbird  burrowing  in  the 
high,  bare  nest  of  the  osprey. 

She  was  on  her  way  to  the  Academy 
now,  and  touched  her  hat  jauntily  and 
shook  loose  her  flowing-sleeve  as  she 
said  good-bye  with  a  lingering  look  at 
the  captain,  to  which  he  did  not  reply. 

The  cold  ague  of  despair  was  on  him : 
he  combed  his  grizzled  beard  with  his 
fingers,  stared  at  the  carpet  and  saw  no 
body.  "  Yes,  I  ought  to  have  rented  two 
small  rooms  up  town,  and  found  work 
that  would  pay.  I'll  do  it  now,"  he 
grumbled. 

Jane  had  uncovered  a  long  table  heaped 
with  tools,  glue-pots,  drawing -materials, 
models  in  wood,  in  paper,  in  clay,  with 
others  finely  draughted  on  large  sheets 
of  Bristol  board.  The  captain  preserved 
his  failures  as  sacredly  as  a  Chinese  the 
dead  bodies  of  his  ancestors.  She  took 
up  one  of  these  models  and  studied  it 
thoughtfully :  "  Very  well,  father.  1  could 
go  on  with  the  business,  I  suppose." 

The  captain  burst  into  a  laugh  :  "Ab 
surd  !  Though,"  relapsing  into  anxiety, 
"this  is,  as  you  say,  really  my  business. 
But  I  could  easily  find  a  place  as  pro 
fessor  of  Latin  and  Greek  in  some  West 
ern  college  which  would  support  us." 

"Now,  I  don't  quite  understand  the 
action  of  this  screw,  A,  B,"  meditatively. 
"  It  interferes  with  the  force  of  the  piston, 
in  my  judgment." 

"Impossible!"  hurrying  over  to  the 
table.  "I'll  explain  that  in  a  moment, 
Jane.  Why,  that  screw  is  the  finest  idea 
in  the  machine.  It's  the  meaning,  in  fact. 
It  all  hinges  on  that." 

In  five  minutes  his  smoking-cap  was 
pushed  back,  his  spectacles  on  his  hook 
ed  nose,  and  he  was  lost  in  the  depths 
of  valves,  gauges  and  levers. 

Jane  took  the  place  of  a  dozen  lost 
hands.  She  made  the  models,  she 
draughted  them,  she  worked  with  car- 


i6 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


penter's  tools,  needles,  pencils,  clay,  by 
turns,  and  was  both  swift  and  skillful. 
She  had  been  at  this  daily  work,  indeed, 
since  the  time  her  father  had  lost  his 
arm.  Now  and  then,  being  really  noth 
ing  but  a  child  in  years,  she  clasped  her 
hands  over  her  head  and  yawned  when 
he  was  not  looking,  or,  when  she  was  sent 
to  the  fire  for  the  glue,  sat  down  on  the 
floor  and  began  a  rough-and-tumble  romp 
with  the  dog,  or  while  she  was  at  work, 
sang  scraps  of  songs  into  which  the  cap 
tain  threw  a  fine  rolling  bass. 

The  morning  was  warm  :  the  fire  had 
burned  down  low  in  the  grate,  and  both 
windows  were  wide  open.  The  wind 
which  entered,  though  raw,  had  a  breath 
of  spring  in  it.  The  scraggy  plum  trees 
outside  were  covered  with  deep  pink 
blossoms,  yellow  dandelions  blazed  up 
out  of  the  grass,  and  even  in  the  muddy 
walks :  a  half-frozen  bee  buzzed  among 
them  feebly  for  a  while,  and  then  lost 
his  way  into  the  room  and  fell  with  a 
thump  on  the  table. 

Jane  dropped  her  tools,  and  put  out 
her  finger  for  him  to  crawl  upon.  "  Now 
you  are  too  early  afoot :  you're  greedy, 
you  fellow,"  she  said.  "You  are  in  too 
great  a  hurry  to  be  rich.  Haven't  you 
a  comfortable  house  ?  And  plenty  of 
honey  ?"  She  carried  him  to  the  win 
dow  and  set  him  in  the  sun  on  the  sill. 
"  He'll  fall  in  some  puddle  and  be  frozen 
to  death  ;  and  serve  him  right !  I  hate 
your  early  birds  and  ants  and  bees,  al 
ways  at  work." 

"  It  is  work  you  hate,  Jenny.  Now 
tack  this  strip  in  place,  child,  and  then 
paste  on  the  muslin.  We  must  finish 
this  before  night,  and  there  is  more  than 
a  day's  work  on  it." 

Jane  tacked  and  measured  diligently 
a  while,  and  then  dropped  her  elbows 
on  the  table  and  rested  her  chin  on  her 
palms.  Her  face  was  just  in  front  of  her 
father's.  "  I  was  thinking — " 

"Yes." 

"  I  mean  that  I  saw  in  the  paper  this 
morning  that  there  was  a  school  of  black- 
fish  on  the  coast,  the  largest  for  years. 
I  suppose  the  Lantrims  will  be  out  for 
them?" 

"  No  doubt.    The  old  captain  wrote  to 


me  that  he  had  bought  Sutphen's  Tuck- 
erton  skiff." 

"Aha?  You  did  not  tell  me  that. 
What  else  did  he  say  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing.  '  Crabs  would  be  scarce 
this  season ;  and  couldn't  we  come  down  ?' 
The  larks  were  beginning  to  rise  in  the 
marshes." 

Jane  nodded  thoughtfully:  "A  Tuck- 
erton  skiff?  Now,  I'm  surprised  at  that, 
father.  I  should  prefer  something  heavier 
— a  yawl,  say — for  coming  in  on  that 
beach.  Well —  The  wind  must  be 
dead  sou'-west  to-day.  It  would  bring 
the  spray  right  up  into  your  face  if  you 
were  lying  on  the  sand." 

She  was  silent  for  some  time,  looking 
steadily  out  of  doors. 

The  captain  glanced  uneasily  once  or 
twice  at  the  dark  blue  eyes  and  at  a  ray 
of  sunlight  glistening  in  the  loose  yellow 
hair.  "  It  is  sou'-west.  It  really  does  be 
gin  to  feel  like  summer,"  he  said,  drop 
ping  his  pencil  and  fumbling  for  his  to 
bacco. 

Jane  brought  his  pipe  and  lighted  it  for 
him.  "I  am  dreadfully  tired !"  stretch 
ing  her  arm  out,  pushing  up  the  sleeve, 
and  looking  at  it  as  if  it  had  done  a  day's 
ploughing.  "  Now,  I  suppose  the  men 
are  all  out  in  their  boats  by  this  time, 
but  a  person  could  easily  rig  Lantrim's 
little  sloop  and  join  them ;  or  we  could 
camp  on  the  marshes  all  day.  The  scent 
of  the  pines  would  be  heavy  in  this  damp 
wind." 

The  captain  nodded  gravely  and  puff 
ed  in  silence  a  while :  "  It's  no  use,  Jane," 
taking  the  pipe  from  his  mouth.  "I 
haven't  a  penny." 

She  sprang  up,  ran  to  a  writing-desk 
and  took  out  a  glove-box.  In  it  were  a 
pair  of  well-darned  kid  gloves  and  two 
tiny  paper  packages.  She  laid  them  be 
fore  him  :  "  It's  all  in  silver :  this  is  for 
your  summer  hat,  and  that  for  my  shoes. 
What  do  you  say,  father  ?  We  are  in 
time  for  the  eight  -  o'clock  train.  We 
should  have  nearly  the  whole  day  on 
the  beach." 

"Hat?  What  do  I  want  with  a  hat? 
But  your  shoes  are  broken." 

"They  can  be  patched,"  with  a  gasp 
of  delight.  "Here !  clear  away  the  work, 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


father,  while  I  put  up  a  basket  of  din 
ner."  She  stopped  by  the  window,  look 
ing  out:  "Somebody  is  coming  through 
the  apple  trees :  I  smell  a  cigar.  Now, 
remember,  nothing  must  detain  you.  We 
can't  break  our  engagement." 

The  visitor  came  in  sight  from  under 
the  apple  trees  —  a  sombre,  heavy  man 
in  gray,  the  editor  Neckart,  to  whom  Mr. 
Waring  had  criticised  the  Swendons  with 
such  freedom  the  night  before.  Mr. 
Neckart  had  known  the  captain  years 
ago.  When  he  was  a  boy,  too  poor  to 
pay  for  schooling,  he  used  to  go  to  the 
captain  at  night  for  help  in  his  Greek 
or  mathematics.  Swendon  had  always 
preferred  the  companionship  of  younger 
men  than  himself,  and  was  never  with 
out  a  "following"  of  clever,  unruly 
schoolboys,  whom  he  was  as  ready  to 
help  when  they  were  lazy,  as  to  tip 
with  silver  half-dollars  —  when  he  had 
them.  Some  of  them  had  brought  young 
Neckart  to  the  captain,  knowing  nothing 
about  him,  except  that  he  was  miserably 
poor,  with  a  desire  for  knowledge  which 
they  thought  insane  enough.  Now  that 
Neckart  was  a  man,  living  in  New  York, 
and  with  very  different  problems  to  work 
from  those  of  Euclid,  he  had  but  little  in 
tercourse  with  the  slow,  easy-going  cap 
tain.  They  met  occasionally,  when  Neck- 
art  came  to  Philadelphia,  at  the  club  or 
at  dinner  somewhere,  when  there  would 
be  a  few  minutes'  hasty  gossip  about  the 
old  pranks  of  the  boys  —  White,  who 
died  in  California,  or  Porter,  who  was 
now  in  the  Senate — and  then  a  shake  of 
the  hand  and  good-bye,  Neckart  usual 
ly  wondering  to  himself,  as  they  parted, 
how  soon  that  fellow  Laidley  would  cease 
to  cumber  the  earth  and  the  captain  would 
have  his  own  and  wear  a  decent  coat 
again  and  the  bits  of  gaudy  jewelry  in 
which  he  used  so  to  delight. 

The  old  man  hurried  down  the  garden- 
walk  now  to  meet  him,  and  wrung  his 
hand  heartily  :  "  Bruce  !  is  it  possible  ? 
You  have  not  crossed  my  threshold 
since  the  old  Epictetus  days." 

"No,  and  I  interrupt  you  now?  You 
are  going  out  ?  I  only  called  for  a  few 
words  on  business." 

"  Plenty  of  time,  plenty  of  time !     My 


little  girl  and  I  were  going  to  run  down 
to  the  shore  to  vagabondize  for  a  day.— 
Jane,  this  is  my  old  friend  Mr.  Neckart. 
— We  have  plenty  of  time  in  which  to 
catch  the  train.  Sit  down,  Bruce." 

Mr.  Neckart  did  not  sit  down,  how 
ever.  He  found  some  difficulty  now  in 
putting  his  business  into  a  few  concise 
words.  He  had  heard  Laidley 's  avowal 
the  night  before  that  he  proposed  to 
leave  the  captain  penniless.  All  his 
boyish  regard  for  the  old  man  woke  in 
force.  His  boyish  feelings  were  apt  to . 
waken  and  clog  Mr.  Neckart's  strait- 
lined  path  to  success.  He  did  not  sen 
timentalize  about  his  old  teacher,  but  he  • 
set  aside  half  an  hour  in  which  to  look 
in  on  him  and  see  what  could  be  done 
for  him.  Anything  could  be  done  in 
half  an  hour  by  a  man  who  chose  to . 
work  hard  enough. 

He  expected  to  find  the  captain  totally 
disheartened  by  this  blow,  but  here  he  • 
was  making  ready  for  a  day's  fooling  on  • 
the  beach  ;  for  the  captain,  finding  that : 
his  visitor  did  not  promptly  broach  the 
subject  of  his  errand,  went  on  with  his , 
preparations. 

So  it  happened  that  they  fell  into  a, 
brief  silence.     The  old  man  by  the  fire 
screwed  his  rod  as  though  rods  were  the 
business  of  life:    the  young  girl  sat  by 
the  window,  a  white-covered  lunch-bas 
ket  on  the  floor  beside  her,  sewing  strings . 
on  a  wide-rimmed  hat  which  she  meant 
to  wear.     Her  yellow  hair  was  bound 
loosely  about  her  head,  fastened  by  a 
band  of  black  velvet:   it  made  a  faint 
shadow  about  the  calm,  delicate  face. . 
The  dog  sat  at  her  feet,  his  head  on  her 
knee,  watching  her  intently.     She  took, 
her  stitches  slowly  and  with  care,  stop 
ping  now  and  then  to  put  her  hand  on , 
Bruno's  muzzle  and  nod  at  him  signif 
icantly  about  the  fun  they  were  going 
to  have  presently.     It  was  a  quiet,  pretty 
picture. 

Now,  silence  or  leisurely  calm  of  any 
kind  was  rare  in  Mr.  Neckart's  daily 
life.  He  was  the  controller  of  a  great 
journal :  he  was  a  leading  politician. 
He  had  been  making  his  own  way,  and. 
dragging  and  goading  slower  men  along, 
since  he  had  left  his  cradle.  Even  his 


i8 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


own  party  found  the  indomitable  energy 
of  this  dwarfish  giant  intolerable  some 
times.  But  his  own  action  did  not  sat 
isfy  him.  He  had  held  his  finger  so 
long  on  the  world's  pulse  that  affairs  in 
New  York  or  Washington  seemed  but 
small  matters.  He  liked  to  feel  that 
they  and  he  were  linked  by  a  thousand 
sympathies  to  the  chances  and  changes 
of  every  country  on  the  globe.  A  fam 
ine  in  India  or  an  insurrection  in  Turkey 
were  not  mere  newspaper  items  to  him, 
but  significant  movements  of  the  outer 
levers  and  pulleys  of  the  great  machine, 
part  of  which  he  was. 

It  is  the  straining  horse  that  is  always 
loaded,  and  there  was  no  man  in  the  par 
ty  from  whom  such  work  was  exacted  as 
from  Neckart.  The  night  before  he  had 
received  a  deputation  of  French  Commu 
nists  proposing  emigration :  this  morn 
ing  he  was  to  meet  in  secret  caucus  the 
.leaders  who  would  decide  on  the  next 
candidate  for  the  Presidency.  So  it  went 
on  day  after  day.  To  fall  suddenly  into 
•this  little  room,  among  people  to  whom 
a  day's  fishing  or  sauntering  with  a  dog 
through  salt  marshes  was  the  object  of 
life,  startled  him. 

For  years,  too,  people  who  talked  to 
Neckart,  though  in  but  a  street  greeting, 
invariably  recognized  his  power  to  help  or 
harm  them.  If  they  had  no  favors  to  ask, 
they  bore  themselves  deferentially,  as  to 
a  power  that  could  grant  favors.  To  the 
captain  he  was  still  the  boy  Bruce,  a  good 
fellow,  though  dull  in  Greek  :  to  the  girl, 
intent  on  her  holiday,  he  saw  that  he  was 
an  unwelcome  guest,  who  would  inter 
fere  with  her  journey.  The  jar  of  fall 
ing  to  the  common  level  was  sudden, 
yet  oddly  pleasant. 

The  captain,  to  fill  up  the  time,  began 
to  discuss  the  different  makes  of  fishing- 
rods.  Mr.  Neckart  was  used  to  give  ten 
minutes  each  to  men  seeking  interviews': 
their  words  had  to  be  sharp  as  arrows, 
and  driven  straight  home  to  the  bull's 
eye  of  the  matter  to  command  his  atten 
tion.  Yet  he  listened  to  this  lazy  talk. 
The  damp  wind  drove  the  perfume  of 
the  apple- blossoms  in  at  the  open  win 
dow  :  the  sunlight  touched  the  glisten 
ing  rings  of  hair  on  Jane's  throat.  How 


slow-moving  and  calm  the  girl  was  !  He 
was  quite  sure  that  the  blood  had  flowed 
leisurely  in  the  veins  under  that  pearly 
skin  ever  since  she  was  born.  None  of 
that  true  American  vim,  sparkle,  pushing 
energy  here  which  he  admired  in  his 
countrywomen. 

"I  really  don't  understand  the  new 
kinds  of  tackle,"  he  said  to  Captain 
Swendon  :  "  I  have  not  had  a  rod  in  my 
hand  for  fifteen  years." 

"  No.  Of  course  not.  You  have  other 
work  to  do.  But  Jane  and  I  run  down 
to  the  shore  whenever  we  have  money 
— I  mean  whenever  we  can  manage  to 
leave  home.  She  knows  every  fisher 
man's  hut  from  Henlopen  to  Barnegat. 
No  better  place  to  go  for  a  breath  of  salt 
air  than  Sutphen's  Point.  You  can  troll 
with  him  all  day,  or  dig  for  roots  in  the 
pine  woods,  or  sleep  on  the  beach  in  the 
sun." 

Neckart  smiled  and  glanced  at  his 
watch.  At  nine  the  committee  would 
meet.  Sun  ?  Sleeping  on  the  beach  ? 
He  was  a  stout,  strongly-built  man,  with 
muscles  like  steel,  but,  like  most  Ameri 
cans  who  have  urged  their  way  relent 
lessly  up,,  his  brain  before  middle  age 
gave  signs  of  disease.  As  any  other 
creature  would,  when  overdriven  for 
years  it  revolted,  and  failed  in  its  work 
now  and  then.  Night  after  night  he  lay 
sleepless,  conscious  only  of  a  dull  vacu 
ity  at  the  base  of  the  brain  ;  and  by  day, 
when  some  crisis  demanded  his  most 
vigilant,  keenest  thought,  thought  sud 
denly  blurred  into  momentary  stupor. 
Any  man  who  overworks  his  brain  will 
understand  how  it  was  with  him,  and 
why,  for  physical  reasons,  this  glimpse 
of  absolute  quiet  and  rest  should  touch 
his  nerves  as  the  taste  of  cordial  would  a 
fainting  man.  A  sudden  vision  opened 
before  him  of  yellow,  silent  sands,  and 
dusky  stretches  of  solemn  pines,  and  the 
monotonous  dash  of  the  green  sea  all  day, 
all  night  long.  No  doubt  there  were  "old 
Sutphens "  there,  whole  generations  of 
people,  outside  of  the  living  world,  sleep 
ing  and  sunning  themselves.  It  was  like 
a  glimpse  into  some  newly -discovered, 
silent,  sunlit  Hades. 

Mr.  Neckart  put  back  his  watch  in  his 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


pocket,  and  looked  irresolutely  at  the 
captain.  The  foolish,  kindly  old  face 
belonged  to  his  .boyhood— to  the  time 
when  his  shoes  were  patched  and  his 
feet  chilblained,  but  all  the  world  was 
waiting  for  him  to  be  a  man  to  do  him 
honor.  If  he  could  sit  for  an  hour  with 
the  old  man  on  the  beach,  would  it  bring 
the  boyish  feeling  back  again  ?  He  was 
conscious  of  a  purposeless  temptation — 
unreasonable  as  that  which  he  had  felt 
at  the  edge  of  a  precipice  to  throw  him 
self  over.  Nonsense !  The  committee 
would  be  waiting ;  there  were  appoint 
ments  for  every  hour  of  his  stay  in 
Philadelphia  ;  there  was  the  leading 
article  on  the  situation  which  nobody 
but  he  could  write,  that  must  go  to  his 
paper  by  the  next  mail. 

He  took  up  his  hat:  "It  is  time  for 
you  to  catch  the  train,  captain.  Will 
you  take  me  with  you  ?" 

Captain  Swendon  looked  at  him  has 
tily  :  "  The  very  best  thing  you  can  do, 
Bruce !  Just  what  I  should  advise. — Jane, 
go  on  before  with  Bruno.  Mr.  Neckart 
and  I  will  follow." 

Mr.  Neckart  was  annoyed.  He  had 
forgotten  that  the  girl  was  to  go,  and  had 
thought  of  the  captain  as  his  only  com 
panion.  But  she  walked  far  in  front  of 
them,  through  the  apple  trees,  and  down 
the  quiet  street,  engrossed  with  the  dog. 
She  probably  would  not  be  in  his  way. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

DOWN  on  the  coast  the  world  sudden 
ly  broadened  and  lifted  into  larger  spaces. 
In  lieu  of  eight-feet  strips  of  pavement 
to  walk  on,  there  were  the  gray  sweeps 
of  sand,  and  great  marshes  stained  with 
patches  of  color  in  emerald  and  brown, 
rolling  off  into  the  hazy  background : 
instead  of  the  brick  and  wooden  boxes 
wherein  we  shut  ourselves  up  with  bad 
air  in  town,  there  were  the  vast  uncover 
ed  plain  of  the  sea,  shapeless  ramparts 
of  fog  incessantly  rising  and  fading,  an 
horizon  which  retreated  as  you  search- 
ed  for  it  into  opening  sunlit  space,  re 
fusing  to  shut  you  in.  The  very  boats 
and  ships  in  which  these  people  lived 


were  winged,  ready  for  flight  into  some 
yet  farther  region. 

"Are  you  glad  to  come  out  of  doors, 
Bruno  ?  I  am,"  said  Miss  Swendon  to 
her  dog  as  she  stood  looking  at  the  sea ; 
and  then  they  sauntered  away  together. 

Her  father  and  Mr.  Neckart  went 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Inlet,  where 
some  fishermen  were  patching  a  boat 
which  they  had  drawn  up  on  a  heap 
of  mussel-shells.  One  or  two  crabbers, 
standing  on  the  bow  of  their  little  skiffs 
and  poling  them  along  the  edge  of  the 
water  by  the  handles  of  their  nets,  had 
stopped  to  watch  the  job,  which  was 
being  done  with  rusty  nails  and  a  bit  of 
barnacle-moulded  iron  from  a  wreck  in 
stead  of  a  hammer.  When  the  iron  and 
nails  broke  they  all  sat  down  and  talked 
the  matter  over,  with  any  other  subject 
which  happened  to  be  lying  loosely  about 
on  the  fallow  fields  of  their  minds.  When 
Captain  Swendon  came  up  they  shook 
hands  gravely  with  him,  and  made  room 
for  him  on  the  bottom  of  an  up-turned, 
worm-eaten  scow.  They  were  all  cap 
tains  as  well  as  he,  and  he  was  hail,  fel 
low  !  well  met !  with  them  as  with  every 
body. 

Air.  Neckart,  who  was  formally  intro 
duced,  nodded  curtly,  but  did  not  sit 
down. 

"A  good  day  for  the  perch,  Sutphen," 
said  the  captain,  handing  round  a  bundle 
of  cigars. 

"  Yaas." 

"  But  you  ought  to  have  been  on  the 
banks  by  daylight."  Mr.  Neckart's  sharp, 
irritable  voice  jarred  somehow  on  the 
quiet  sunshine. 

"  Yaas.  But  I  lent  my  boat  last  week, 
and  this  here  one's  out  of  repair. — Give 
me  more  of  them  nails,  David." 

"The  boat  could  have  been  mended 
at  night,  and  ready  for  use,"  in  the  tone 
which  a  teacher  might  use  to  idle  boys. 
— "  It  is  singular,  Captain  Swendon," 
turning  his  back  on  the  men  as  on  so 
many  mud-turtles,  "  that  the  sea-air  be 
gets  improvident  habits  in  all  coast-peo 
ple.  You  cannot  account  for  it  ration 
ally,  but  it  is  a  fact.  Along  the  whole 
immediate  shore-line  of  Europe  you  find 
the  same  traits.  Unreadiness,  torpor  of 


20 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


mind  and  body. — Ah  !  Captain  Swendon 
and  I  wish  to  hire  a  boat  for  the  day," 
turning  to  the  fishermen  again.  "Can 
any  of  you  men  furnish  us  with  one  ?" 

Sutphen  lighted  his  cigar  leisurely : 
"We  always  manage  to  provide  Captain 
Swendon  with  a  boat  when  he  wants  it. 
We  kin  obleege  him,"  with  a  slight  stress 
on  the  pronoun. 

"At  what  rates  ?"  sharply. 

"Waal,  we  kin  talk  of  rates  when  the 
day's  over.  The  captain  and  us  won't 
disagree,  I  reckon." 

"  I  never  do  business  in  that  way. 
Bring  out  your  boat  and  put  a  price  on 
it." 

"Come,  Neckart,"  said  the  captain, 
rising  hastily,  "  we  will  walk  up  the  beach 
a  bit.  —  I'll  see  you  about  the  boat  pres 
ently,  Sutphen.  —  You  don't  know  these 
fellows,  Bruce,"  when  they  had  passed 
out  of  hearing  and  found  a  seat  in  the 
thin  salt  grass.  "They  are  not  used  to 
being  dealt  with  in  such  a  prompt,  drill- 
major  fashion." 

"  I  deal  with  all  men  alike.  Order 
and  promptness  have  been  necessary  to 
me  in  every  step  of  my  way.  I  must 
have  them  from  others.  I  pay  to  a  pen 
ny,  and  I  exact  to  a  penny.  It  is  not 
the  money  I  want :  it  is  discipline  in  the 
people  about  me.  They  must  move  as 
if  they  were  drilled  if  they  move  to  fur 
ther  my  ends." 

The  captain  took  his  cigar  out  of  his 
mouth  and  turned  blankly  on  him : 
'"  Further  your  ends?'  But,  Bruce? — " 

Neckart  laughed :  "Oh,  no  doubt  they 
were  created  with  some  other  object  in 
view  than  to  serve  my  purposes.  But 
that  is  the  cognizance  which  I  take  of 
them.  Really,  captain,  if  you  were  in 
public  life,  and  saw  with  what  eagerness 
masses  of  men  follow  feeble  leaders  who 
know  the  trick  of  piping  to  them,  and 
how  willing  they  are  to  be  manipulated, 
you  would  soon  come  to  look  upon  the 
American  public  simply  as  a  machine 
ready  for  your  own  use  when  you  had 
the  skill  to  work  it." 

The  captain's  cigar  went  out  in  his 
fingers  as  he  sat  staring  with  dull  per 
plexity  at  Neckart.  There  was  a  certain 
nobility  in  the  carriage  of  the  powerful 


figure  and  black  shaggy  head,  an  occa 
sional  fire  in  the  deep-set  eyes,  a  humor 
in  the  fine  smile,  which  argued  a  differ 
ent  order  of  man  from  this  scheming, 
selfish  politician. 

"  I  can't  place  you  at  all,  Bruce.  Now, 
I  should  have  thought  you  would  have 
been  a  reformer — worked  for  humanity 
— that  line,  you  know.  You  were  a  sen 
sitive  lad,  like  a  girl." 

"  I  am  quite  too  warm-hearted  a  fellow 
to  be  a  philanthropist,"  laughed  Neck- 
art.  "The  philanthropists  I  know  work 
for  principles,  liberty,  education  and  the 
like:  they  don't  care  a  damn  for  the  in 
dividual  Tom  and  Jerry.  The  chances 
are,  that  your  reformer  is  a  cold-blooded 
tyrant  at  home  :  he  makes  a  god  of  his 
one  idea :  his  god  makes  him  nervous, 
ill-conditioned — the  last  man  in  the  world 
to  choose  for  a  friend  or  a  husband." 

"You  amaze  me  !  I  should  have  said 
that  they  were  the  wisest  and  purest  of 
men.  Next  to  clergymen,  of  course.  I 
don't  go  to  church  myself,  but  I  respect 
the  cloth.  But  speaking  of  yourself, 
Bruce,  you  were  a  most  affectionate  lit 
tle  fellow.  Do  you  remember  how  you 
referred  every  new  idea  to  your  mother  ? 
I  recollect  you  told  me  once  that  you 
read  your  lessons  in  your  school  classics 
to  her  to  amuse  her.  You  must  have 
cleaned  the  translation  sometimes  to 
make  it  fit  for  her  ear." 

"Yes." 

"And  I  remember,  too,"  regardless  of 
the  sudden  silence  which  had  fallen  on 
his  companion,  "how  you  watched  my 
wife  making  a  cap  one  day  —  she  had 
nice  fingers  in  such  work,  Virginie  — 
and  how  you  saved  your  money  to  buy 
lace  and  ribbon  for  her  to  make  your 
mother  a  cap ;  and  how  anxiously  you 
sat  watching  every  stitch  as  it  went  in, 
and  carried  it  off  triumphantly  when  it 
was  done." 

"  I  remember  quite  well.  Mrs.  Swen 
don  was  very  kind  to  me  in  the  matter." 

The  captain  did  not  reply  :  he  glanced 
at  Neckart  with  sudden  alarm.  What 
was  it  that  he  had  heard  of  Bruce's  mo 
ther?  Some  wretched  story  that  came 
out  at  the  time  of  her  death :  had  she 
committed  a  crime  or  gone  mad  ?  He 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


21 


could  not  recall  it,  but  something  in  the 
silence  of  his  companion  told  him  that 
he  had  blundered.  He  began  to  smoke 
violently  in  contrition  of  soul,  and  re 
mained  silent,  while  Neckart  lay  still  in 
the  sand,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his 
head,  looking  at  the  surf. 

It  was  not  the  surf  he  saw. 

It  was  that  little  silly  cap  which  he 
had  held  on  his  boy's  chapped  fist  de 
lighted  and  proud.  Twenty  years  ago ! 
He  had  earned  the  money  to  buy  it  by 
work  after  the  other  boys  in  the  shop 
had  gone  home.  He  could  see  the  very 
pattern  now  that  was  worked  in  the  lace, 
and  the  ribbon  —  a  pale  blue,  just  the 
color  of  his  mother's  eyes.  He  had  car 
ried  it  home  in  the  evening,  and  smooth 
ed  the  gray  hair  over  the  gentle  little  face, 
and  tied  it  on  her  before  he  would  let 
her  go  to  the  glass.  She  was  just  as 
pleased  as  he,  and  kissed  him  with  her 
arms  tight  about  his  neck  and  the  tears 
in  her  eyes.  An  hour  afterward  he  had 
found  her  tearing  it  into  bits  with  an 
idiotic  laugh.  A  little  later — 

He  shut  his  eyes,  as  if  to  keep  out 
some  real  sight  before  him. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  if  his  whole  boy 
hood  had  been  made  up  of  just  such 
nights  as  this  one  which  he  remembered. 

It  was  not  often  that  Neckart  looked 
back  at  that  early  time.  He  was  nei 
ther  morbid  nor  addicted  to  self-torture. 
He  had  carefully  walled  up  this  miser 
able  background  of  youth  from  his  busy, 
cheerful,  wide-awake  life.  Why  should 
he  go  back  to  it  ?  Something,  however, 
in  the  air  to-day,  in  the  moan  of  the  sea 
through  the  sunlight,  brought  it  all  be 
fore  him,  more  real  than  the  stretch  of 
water  and  sand. 

The  captain  smoked  out  his  cigar  and 
began  to  talk.  Gaps  of  silence  were  so 
much  wasted  time  in  the  world  ;  and  be 
sides,  he  owed  a  duty  to  Bruce.  Here 
was  a  man  going  headlong  to  the  devil 
by  the  road  of  ambition,  a  sweet,  high 
nature  becoming  soured  and  tainted,  all 
for  the  lack  of  honest  direction  from 
somebody  of  age  and  experience. 

When  Neckart  roused  himself  enough 
to  understand,  the  captain  was  in  the  full 
swing  of  his  dictatorial  oration.  "I  don't 


want  to  intrude  with  my  opinion.  But 
no  man  should  live  for  himself,"  he  said. 
"Now,  if  my  scissors  had  turned  out  as 
I  expected,  I  should  have  been  worth  a 
million  to-day.  I'd  have  spent  a  good 
share  of  it — let  me  see — on  churches,  I 
think.  Small  churches  —  at  corners  in 
place  of  grogshops.  Pure  Gothic,  say — " 

"Stained  glass  and  gargoyles  instead 
of  whiskey  ?  You  must  bid  higher  for 
souls  in  back  alleys  than  that,  captain." 

"Well,  schools,  then  —  colleges,  asy 
lums,  soup -houses.  I  tell  you,  Bruce, 
if  I  had  your  opportunities,  if  I  could 
work  political  machinery,  I'd  lift  this 
festering  mass  below  us  up  —  at  least 
to  civilization  and  Christianity." 

"  I  thought  you  meant  me,"  laughing. 
"Go  on." 

"  Of  course  I  can't  give  you  detailed 
advice.  Take  me  on  pistons  and  screws, 
and  I'm  at  home ;  but  I  know  only  the 
broad  outlines  of  political  economy.  My 
view,"  ponderously,  "is  purely  philosoph 
ic.  Our  politics  need  reform,  sir.  An 
honest  man  who  would  come  to  the  front 
just  now  would  save  the  country.  The 
masses  would  follow  him  to  honesty.  The 
Americans  are  a  just  people  by  instinct. 
I  tell  you,  sir,  if  I  had  your  chances — 
Talk  to  Pliny  Van  Ness,  Bruce.  There's 
a  keen  man  of  the  world,  who  is  as  pure 
and  lofty  in  his  notions  as  an  enthusias 
tic  woman.  He  has  a  scheme  just  now 
for  bettering  the  condition  of  the  children 
of  the  dangerous  classes  of  Pennsylvania. 
I  wish  you  knew  Van  Ness." 

"I've  seen  him;"  adding,  after  a  mo 
ment's  hesitation,  "He  is  as  upright  a 
man,  I  believe,  as  you  say  —  the  very 
man  to  be  inspired  with  your  heroic  rage 
for  reform,  and  to  carry  it  into  effect.  I 
am  not  the  same  kind  of  material." 

"  Bruce,  you  belie  yourself.  I  knew 
you  as  a  boy — " 

"Then  you  knew  an  ordinary,  not  bad 
sort  of  a  fellow,  captain,  but  no  hero.  I 
have  had  one  or  two  qualities  which  have 
pushed  me  up — a  skill — craft  with  using 
words,  as  you  have  with  tools,  for  in 
stance,  an  inflexibility  of  purpose,  a  cer 
tain  tact  in  influencing  large  bodies  of 
men.  I  have  never  had  any  affection  for 
them.  I  have  two  or  three  stanch  friends. 


22 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


Other  men  and  women  are  part  of  the 
world's  furniture  to  me.  Nothing  more." 

"  But  the  power  which  these  qualities 
have  gained  for  you  ?  How  do  you  mean 
to  use  it?" 

"  You  press  me  closely,"  with  an  amused 
scrutiny  of  the  captain's  monitorial  face. 
"  I  shall  use  it,  just  now,  to  make  money. 
That  is  the  thing  of  which  I  have  had 
the  least  in  the  world,  and  which  has 
yielded  me  most  substantial  pleasure. 
When  I  am  a  rich  man  I  can  command 
knowledge,  power  and  whatever  else  I 
covet."  His  eye  kindled  at  the  last  words. 
There  was  a  darkened  background  in  his 
thoughts,  to  which  Neckart,  with  all  his 
easy  frankness,  admitted  no  man. 

The  captain  studied  him  with  per 
plexity  :  then  his  face  lightened :  "  I 
have  it !  You  must  marry  !  A  wife  and 
children  are  the  very  influences  you  need 
to  soften  and  broaden  your  aims.  Yes, 
I  know  I'm  speaking  plainly.  But — have 
you  never  thought  of  it?" 

Mr.  Neckart  did  not  reply  for  a  few 
moments.  "  It  is  impossible  that  I  should 
ever  marry,"  he  said  gravely.  "  There 
is  an  obstacle  which  would  make  it  sim 
ply  criminal  in  me.  I  never  think  of  it." 

The  captain  colored  :  "  I  beg  your  par 
don,  Bruce.  1  did  not  know — " 

"You  have  not  intruded :  you  have  not 
hurt  me  in  the  least,"  laying  his  hand 
for  an  instant  on  the  captain's  knee.  "It 
is  not  a  matter  about  which  I  have  any 
soreness  of  feeling.  The  obstacle  arose 
from  circumstances :  I  am  not  in  any 
sense  guilty." 

Captain  Swendon  nodded  and  occupied 
himself  with  rebuckling  his  shoes.  He 
could  neither  answer  to  the  purpose  nor 
rid  his  face  of  the  shocked  alarm  visible 
in  it.  To  have  been  told  that  Neckart 
was  dying  would  have  startled  him  less, 
and  seemed  not  so  pitiable  to  him  as  to 
know  that  he  was  shut  out  for  life  from 
love  and  marriage. 

Neckart  read  his  thoughts.  "  There's 
a  difference  in  men,"  he  said,  concealing 
a  smile.  "  It  would  not  suit  you,  cap 
tain,  to  go  through  life  as  an  anchorite 
or  a  Catholic  priest,  but  it  really  agrees 
with  me  very  well.  I  am  not  a  domestic 
man  by  taste,  nor  susceptible  to  woman's 


influence.  I  have  met  a  few  women,  of 
course,  beautiful,  and  with  the  intellect 
and  wealth  which  would  make  them  de 
sirable  wives ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  if  I 
had  been  differently  situated  I  should 
have  loved  and  married.  But  it  never 
cost  me  a  second  thought  to  pass  them 

by." 

"  But  this  obstacle — it  may  some  day 
be  removed?"  ventured  the  captain. 

Mr.  Neckart's  features  settled  into  the 
hard  lines  again.  "  Not  while  I  live,"  he 
said. 

If  there  was  one  quality  in  himself  on 
which  the  captain  could  build  with  con 
fidence,  it  was  his  keen  insight  into  other 
men.  He  read  Neckart's  life  as  an  open 
book.  "Bruce  is  married  already,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "He  was  precisely  the 
kind  of  lad  to  be  taken  in  by  some  crea 
ture  that  is  now  a  secret  burden  on  him. 
Drinks  or  chews  opium,  I've  no  doubt, 
or  has  gone  to  the  devil  with  one  jump. 
Tut !  tut !  He  would  not  be  divorced. 
I  know  what  his  opinion  is  on  that  head. 
But  she'll  die :  that  sort  of  women  never 
live  long. — It  will  all  come  right,  Bruce," 
he  said  aloud.  "There's  more  ruling  of 
eternal  justice  in  all  of  our  lives  than  we 
give  God  credit  for.  But  this  matter  as 
tonishes  me.  I've  heard  of  your  inti 
macy  with  certain  women  in  Washington 
— leaders  of  society.  I  always  thought 
of  you  as  a  marrying  man." 

"Because  I  cannot  marry  I  have  the 
more  right  to  accept  whatever  entertain 
ment  or  friendship  women  can  give  me," 
falling  into  his  ordinary  easy  tone.  "  I 
have  the  keenest  appreciation  for  an 
ambitious  woman  who  has  intellect  and 
culture,  and  is  alive  with  energy  and 
coquetry.  I  know  such  women.  They 
seem  to  be  full  of  subtle  flame.  Cer 
tainly,  I  would  make  a  friend  of  such  a 
one.  Why  not  ?  I  would  marry  her  if 
I  could." 

A  moment  after  he  looked  up  the  beach, 
and  seeing  the  captain's  daughter,  smiled 
to  think  what  an  absolute  contrast  she 
was  to  this  ideal  live,  brilliant  woman. 
She  was  sitting  on  a  log,  the  dog  asleep 
at  her  feet,  her  hands  clasped  about  her 
knees,  looking  out  to  sea,  and  he  could 
swear  she  had  sat  there  motionless  as 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


the  stretch  of  gray  sand  about  her  for 
an  hour.  Such  torpidity  revolted  Neck- 
art.  Neither  did  it  appease  him  that  the 
nobly -cut,  dim -lighted  face,  the  mass 
of  yellowish  hair  rolling  down  from  its 
black  band,  the  coarse  brown  dress  which 
hung  about  her  in  thick  folds,  all  gave 
him  pleasure.  In  the  moment  he  had 
met  her  first  he  had  felt  an  odd  repulsion 
to  this  girl.  The  women  with  whom  he 
had  fraternized  were  akin  to  himself: 
Jane,  child  as  she  was,  was  antagonistic. 
He  felt  for  her  the  same  kind  of  irritated 
dislike  as  that  which  Miss  Fleming  gave 
to  her,  and  which  people  of  active  brains 
are  apt  to  give  to  any  creature  whose 
animus  is  totally  different  from  their 
own. 

What  did  the  girl  sit  there  for,  think 
ing  her  own  thoughts  ?  Young  women 
at  her  time  of  life  blushed  and  fluttered 
and  plumed  themselves  when  a  man 
came  near  who  was  of  the  right  age  to 
love  and  marry.  And  so  they  ought,  so 
they  ought !  Neckart  was  used  to  see 
women  of  any  age  plume  themselves 
when  he  was  in  sight.  It  was  simple 
admission  of  his  position.  They  knew 
their  own  capital  of  beauty  or  wit,  and 
showed  him  the  best  of  every  point,  just 
as  a  pheasant  turns  every  golden  feather 
to  the  sun  when  a  passer-by  comes  near. 
He  liked  these  radiant,  self-asserting  wo 
men,  to  be  sure,  very  much  as  he  did  the 
silly  fowl  or  a  Skye  terrier  conscious  of 
its  beauty  in  every  hair.  But  beauty 
was  so  much  wasted  material  on  this 
daughter  of  Swendon's,  who  did  not 
seem  to  know  she  had  it. 

Besides,  Mr.  Neckart  had  always  been 
thrown  into  contact  with  women  who  had 
careers  and  aims.  Each  one  of  them 
wished  she  had  been  born  a  man,  and 
did  what  she  could  to  snatch  a  man's 
prerogatives.  One  wrote,  another  paint 
ed,  a  third  sang;  this  one  strove  for  po 
litical  power  in  the  lobbies  of  Congress, 
that  for  money,  the  majority  for  hus 
bands  :  they  were  wits,  litterateurs,  socie 
ty  women.  But  for  a  young  girl  to  jog 
on  from  year  to  year  striving  neither  for 
knowledge  nor  lovers,  making  her  world 
of  the  whims  and  wants  of  a  weak-mind 
ed  old  man,  composedly  building  up 


every  day  models  which  she  knew  would 
prove  failures  to-morrow, — here  was  a 
most  inane  life. 

Any  eye  which  had  grown  used  to  the 
flash  and  flutter  of  brilliant  tropical  birds 
in  a  cage  would  be  apt  to  find  the  little 
dull-breasted  swallow  sitting  motionless 
by  her  nest  a  very  insipid  subject  of  study. 
Probably  no  other  man,  as  active  and 
busy  in  the  world  as  Neckart,  would 
have  wasted  so  much  thought  on  a  chance 
young  girl  sitting  on  a  log.  But  women 
being  forbidden  fruit  to  him,  he  was  mor 
bidly  curious  about  them  all.  Old  Chrys- 
ostom,  barred  into  his  cave  by  an  im 
passable  line,  was  much  more  inquisitive 
about  the  princess  asleep  outside  than  if 
he  had  been  a  hearty  young  fellow  free 
to  go  out  and  kiss  and  make  love  to  her. 

Miss  Swendon  came  up  presently,  the 
dog  marching  alongside.  "Father,"  she 
said,  "you'  are  spending  the  whole  day 
with  Mr.  Neckart.  You  have  not  told 
Sutphen  the  town  news.  I  am  afraid 
the  old  man  will  be  hurt." 

"That's  a  fact:  I'll  go  over  directly. 
You  will  like  to  be  alone  a  while,  Neck- 
art,  at  any  rate. — Come,  Jane." 

Neckart  rose :  "  You  are  not  going 
over  to  those  rough  fellows,  Miss  Swen 
don  ?  There  are  no  women  there." 

Jane  laughed.  "  /  am  a  woman," 
with  an  arch  little  nod.  "One  queen- 
bee  makes  the  whole  hive  proper,  con 
ventionally." 

"Of  course.  But  really  those  men 
are  vulgar  and  fishy  to  such  a  degree — 
Nothing  but  a  missionary  spirit  can  take 
you  to  them  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  gravely,  "they  are 
the  best-bred  men  I  know.  Their  talk 
is  fuller  of  adventure  and  sincerity  than 
arty  book  I  ever  read." 

"Still,  stay  with  me.  I  have  feelings 
to  consider  as  well  as  Sutphen." 

"  Very  well. — I  will  come  over  present 
ly,  father.  Tell  the  little  boys  to  make 
a  fire  clear  enough  to  broil  the  fish  for 
dinner."  She  sat  down  and  called  Bruno 
to  her  feet.  There  was  a  grave,  childish 
simplicity  in  her  motions  which  was  a 
new  study  to  Neckart. 

"  I  believe,"  watching  her  keenly, 
"you  would  rather  have  gone.  Sutphen 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


would  have  been  a  better  companion 
than  I?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  yet.  I  have  never 
tried  you.  I  do  know  Ichabod." 

"  Or  perhaps  the  truer  courtesy  would 
be  to  leave  you  alone  with  the  sea  ?  You 
were  making  a  picture  of  it  in  your  mind 
a  while  ago  ?" 

"No,"  knitting  her  brows.  "I  could 
not  do  that.  I  know  people  who  look 
at  the  sea  or  mountains  or  sky  as  so 
much  canvas  and  gamboge  and  burnt 
umber  and  bits  of  effect.  They  are  very 
tiresome." 

"You  have  imagination  rather  than 
fancy,  then  ?  You  hear  the  secret  words 
in  that  everlasting  moan  yonder  ?  You 
know  what  the  mountains  say  to  you  at 
nightfall  ?"  Neckart  vaguely  remem 
bered  the  jargon  of  sentimental  novels, 
the  heroines  of  which  always  keep  their 
heads  on  Nature's  breast.  He  did  not 
mean  to  chaff  any  woman,  but  he  would 
gladly  have  proved  this  one  sentimental 
and  weak  to  explain  his  strong  antipathy 
to  her. 

"  No,  I  never  thought  of  those  things. 
But  one  grows  tired  in  town — housekeep 
ing,  models  and  all  of  it.  My  work  is 
very  light,  but  I  do  not  like  to  work  at 
all.  And  here — the  beach  is  silent  and 
the  sky  blue  and  the  sea  rolls — rolls  all 
day  long :  it  is  like  coming  home  after 
one  has  been  out  on  the  streets." 

"About  as  keen  comprehension  of  Na 
ture  as  the  tree  yonder,"  thought  Neckart 
contemptuously.  But,  after  all,  the  tree 
was  warmed,  and  its  sap  ran  stronger, 
and  it  grew  and  broadened  in  the  sun 
and  air ;  and  that  was  more  than  he 
could  say  of  painter  or  poet. 

He  lay  at  her  feet,  leaning  on  his  el 
bow,  for  an  hour  or  more.  He  had 
meant  to  gauge  her  intellect,  experience 
and  character  in  a  few  minutes.  It  was  a 
recreation  which  had  sometimes  amused 
him  when  with  women.  As  soon  as  his 
curiosity  was  satisfied  he  was  done  with 
them.  But  the  discoveries  he  had  made 
in  those  pretty  little  dwellings  innocently 
opening  their  doors  to  wandering  hearts 
of  marriageable  men !  The  miserable 
shams  inside,  the  traps,  the  dark  rooms 
full  of  all  uncleanness !  To-day  he  for-  i 


got  his  system  of  exploration.  He  began 
to  feel  the  physical  effect  of  coming  from 
close  streets  and  striving  work  into  this 
vast  open  space  —  the  drowsiness  which 
men  experience  on  high  mountains  or 
by  the  sea,  and  which  has  a  subtle,  last 
ing  enchantment  in  it.  The  damp  wind 
bent  and  whitened  the  stretches  of  salt 
grass  in  the  meadows  behind  him  ;  brown 
clouds  swept  from  west  to  east  overhead 
in  endless  procession;  the  great  dun-col  - 
ered  plane  of  the  sea  rose  and  fell  stead 
ily:  for  the  rest,  except  the  shrill  pipe 
of  a  fishhawk  perched  on  a  dead  tree 
by  its  nest,  there  was  silence.  He  spoke 
to  Jane  now  and  then,  but  for  the  most 
part  forgot  her.  She  had  fallen  into  the 
motionless  quiet  which  seemed  habitual 
to  her.  Some  of  the  brilliant  women  he 
knew  would  have  dug  holes  in  the  sand, 
or  chattered  gossip,  or  interpreted  to  him 
with  much  intellectual  force  the  meaning 
of  land  and  sky,  or  have  taken  their  last 
love-affair  or  other  private  little  misery 
to  give  words  to  the  complaint  of  the 
sea.  This  girl  seemed  only  a  part  of  the 
shore,  as  much  as  sea  or  sand.  The  sun 
warmed,  the  air  blew  on  her  as  on  them  : 
if  they  gave  her  anything  besides,  she 
too  kept  their  secret. 

Occasionally  Neckart  roused  himself 
to  talk  briefly  to  her,  and  noticed  then  a 
blunt  directness  in  her  speech  that  would 
have  appalled  an  ordinary  hearer.  It 
was  her  habit  and  choice  to  say  noth 
ing,  but  if  pushed  to  the  wall  what  was 
there  that  she  would  not  say  ? 

The  dog,  lying  at  her  feet  watching 
him  steadily,  did  not  give  up  to  him  the 
secret  of  its  own  being  or  its  opinion  of 
himself;  but  if  it  once  did  speak  it  would 
do  both,  and  with  no  white  lies  in  the 
words  either.  "  The  girl  is  like  her  dog," 
thought  Neckart. 

She  rose  at  last,  and  went  across  the 
sands  to  her  father.  Xeckart  was  soon 
conscious  of  an  uneasy  change  in  every 
thing  about  him.  The  atmosphere  of 
sunlit  rest  was  broken.  The  clouds  only 
meant  rain,  the  sand  was  sand,  and  the 
sea  but  a  wet  swash  of  water :  he  began 
to  look  at  his  watch  and  think  of  the 
trains.  The  influence  that  had  quieted 
him  so  unaccountably  had  been  in  the 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


girl,  then  ?  He  shut  his  eyes  and  tried 
to  recall  the  erect  figure,  the  fall  of  yel 
low  hair,  the  clear  Scandinavian  face. 
He  felt  the  same  strong  repulsion  from 
her,  yet  in  their  brief  interview  she  had 
certainly  affected  him  uncontrollably — 
brought  him  back  to  old  boyish  ways  of 
thinking.  It  was  perhaps,  he  thought, 
because  he  was  unused  to  such  abso 
lutely  honest  women. 

He  sauntered  up  the  beach,  and  in  five 
minutes  wondered  how  he  had  based  such 
magniloquent  ideas  on  a  child  out  for  a 
holiday.  The  fishermen  on  this  solitary 
beach  apparently  made  a  holiday  when 
ever  Swendon  and  Jane  came,  and  hu 
mored  the  latter  in  all  her  vagaries.  No 
doubt  they  would  have  preferred  to  eat 
properly  in  their  own  kitchens,  but  the 
cloth  was  spread  on  the  sand  beside  the 
fire.  The  captain,  with  the  perspira 
tion  streaming,  was  broiling  ham  at  the 
end  of  a  long  stick ;  Sutphen  cleaned 
the  crabs ;  Lantrim's  wife  cooked  the 
perch,  and  Jane  herself  was  making 
the  coffee. 

"Don't  speak  to  me:  I'm  counting," 
as  Mr.  Neckart  stopped  beside  her. 
"Five,  six,  seven.  You  can't  trifle  when 
you  make  coffee,"  peering  into  the  pot 
•with  the  gravity  of  a  judge  on  the 
bench. 

The  smell  of  the  broiling  ham  in  the 
salt  air  suddenly  brought  back  to  Neck- 
art  a  day  when  he  had  gone  fishing  with 
his  mother  in  the  old  place  in  Delaware. 
How  happy  and  hungry  they  were ! 

"Give  me  your  stick,  captain.  You 
are  burning  up,"  he  said,  sitting  down 
on  the  log  beside  him. 

"You've  been  on  this  beach  afore, 
sir?"  said  Sutphen,  who  was  his  neigh 
bor,  and  felt  it  his  duty  to  play  host. 

"  Never  but  once,  when  the  Argyle 
went  ashore." 

"  You  were  here  fur  the  Treasury  De 
partment  ?" 

"Yes.  Did  you  know  anything  about 
that  case?"  eying  him  with  sudden  in 
terest.  "  It  was  a  muddled  account  that 
was  sent  up  to  Washington." 

"  Likely.  Yes,  I  knew.  I've  been  in 
the  wracking  and  life-saving  service  thir 
ty  years  come  June." 


When  Jane  came  to  that  side  of  the 
fire  twenty  minutes  later,  none  of  the 
crabs  were  cleaned,  and  the  ham  and 
stick  burned  black  together  while  Neck- 
art  held  them  in  the  fire. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  allowed  two  men 
to  sit  together :  I  might  have  known  they 
would  gossip,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Neckart  had  just  made  up  his 
mind  that  Sutphen  and  the  two  Lantrims 
were  as  shrewd,  common -sensed  wit 
nesses  as  he  had  ever  examined.  He 
was  hungry  too,  and  as  they  ate  togeth 
er  he  borrowed  Sutphen's  clamp-knife, 
and  told  some  capital  stories,  and  hand 
ed  about  his  cigars  when  they  had  all 
finished. 

"  I  misjudged  that  black-a-vised  fel 
low,"  said  Ichabod  to  Lantrim.  "He's 
consid'able  of  a  man." 

Lantrim  nodded  ponderously.  One 
story  or  slow  monologue  followed  an 
other — of  shipwrecks,  frequent  on  that 
murderous  coast,  of  rescues  by  wreck 
ers,  of  "vyages"  down  the  coast  or  to 
India,  Africa,  with  plenty  of  sailors' 
superstition  in  it  all.  Neckart  lay  on 
his  back  smoking,  his  hands  under  his 
head.  It  seemed  as  if  he  were  the  boy 
he  was  on  that  day's  fishing  long  ago. 
His  blood  quickened  and  heated  at  these 
tales  of  adventure,  just  as  it  used  to  do 
when  he  pored  over  La  Perouse  or  the 
History  of  Great  Navigators.  The  after 
noon  was  darkening,  raw  and  cold  ;  their 
fire  was  a  mere  ruddy  speck  in  the  indis 
tinct  solitudes ;  a  wall  of  gray  mist  moved 
down  the  marshes  toward  them. 

Jane,  he  noticed,  was  uneasy,  watch 
ing  her  father  anxiously  after  the  dinner 
was  over,  until  Sutphen  proposed  to  have 
some  music  and  begged  the  captain  to 
sing.  Then  she  was  quite  happy,  sat 
closer  to  him,  taking  his  hand,  and  as 
his  cracked  voice  piped  manfully  out 
some  ancient  drinking-song  she  nod 
ded  complacently  and  beat  the  time  soft 
ly  with  his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

Mr.  Neckart  watched  her  furtively 
through  his  half-shut  eyes.  She  was 
wrapped  in  her  cloak,  her  head  rose  in 
clear  relief  against  the  background  of 
fog.  The  men  and  their  wives,  he  saw, 
looked  upon  her  as  a  child,  a  straight- 


26 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


forward  little  girl,  with  whom  they  had 
fished  or  cooked  crabs  for  years :  very 
different  from  the  ladies  who  came  down 
in  summer,  and  were  a  fearfully  and  won 
derfully  made  species  of  human  being. 
Neckart  would  have  analyzed  these  wo 
men  at  a  glance  as  easily  as  he  could 
impale  a  butterfly  on  a  pin  :  why  should 
he  watch  Jane  as  though  she  were  the 
Sphinx  ?  The  dark-blue  eyes  that  met 
his  now  and  then  were  the  most  frank 
and  friendly  in  the  world,  but  the  naked 
truth  in  them  irritated  him  as  though  it 
had  been  the  gleam  of  a  drawn  sword. 
He  sat  erect,  thinking  that  if  there  was 
anything  repulsive  to  him  in  a  woman, 
it  was  physical  indolence,  and  a  strength 
of  any  sort  greater  than  his  own. 

Old  Sutphen  presently  asked  him  if  he 
too  wouldn't  give  them  a  song.  Now, 
Neckart  never  sang  except  when  alone, 
as  his  voice  was  a  very  remarkable  bari 
tone,  and  he  had  no  mind  to  make  a 
reputation  on  that  sort  of  capital.  He 
could  not  afford  to  be  known  as  a  trou 
badour.  But  he  sang  now,  a  passionate 
love-song,  of  which,  of  course,  he  felt 
not  a  word :  the  air  was  full  of  fervor, 
with  an  occasional  gay  jibing  monotone. 
The  words  in  themselves  meant  nothing: 
the  music  meant  that  whatever  of  love 
or  earnestness  was  in  the  world  was  a 
sham.  The  men  nodded  over  their  pipes, 
keeping  time :  Jane  held  her  father's 
hand  quiet  in  her  own,  looking  straight 
before  her. 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Very  lively  toon 
that,"  said  Lantrim  when  it  was  ended. 

"  Kind  o'  murnful  too,"  ventured  his 
wife. 

Jane,  with  the  Inst  note,  rose  and 
walked  hastily  down  the  beach,  where 
the  fog  was  heavy.  She  did  not  return. 
Mr.  Neckart  smiled :  he  could  only  guess 
the  result  of  his  experiment,  but  he  did 
guess  it. 

"Miss  Swendon  did  not  ask  me  to  sing 
again,"  he  said  to  the  captain. 

"  Well,  no.  The  song  hurt  her  some 
how.  Jane  had  always  an  unaccountable 
dislike  to  music,"  apologetically.  "I'm 
exceedingly  fond  of  it  myself:  it's  a  pas 
sion  with  me.  I  enjoy  anything  from  an 
organ  to  a  jewsharp.  But  she  does  not. 


When  she  was  a  baby  it  seemed  to  rouse 
her.  She's  a  very  quiet  little  body,  you 
see. — Go,  Bruno:  bring  your  mistress 
back." 

She  came  in  a  few  minutes,  as  they 
were  making  ready  to  meet  the  train. 
She  hurried  to  her  father,  caught  his 
arm,  and  when  they  were  seated  in  the 
train  still  held  him  close :  "  Stay  with 
me,  father.  Mr.  Neckart  does  not  need 
you.  Don't  leave  me  alone  again :  / 
need  you." 

"  But,  dear  child,  that  is  hardly  cour 
teous.  He  is  our  guest." 

"  He  need  not  have  made  himself  a 
guest.  He  has  spoiled  our  whole  holi 
day.  He  has  spoiled  the  whole  dear  old 
place  for  me,"  her  eyes  filling  \vith  tears. 
"I  shall  never  hear  the  sea  again  without 
hearing  that  song  in  it." 

"  It  was  a  very  good  song,  I  assure  you, 
Jane.  I  do  wish  you  had  a  better  ear. 
Why,  Bruce  has  a  voice  of  remarkable 
compass.  I  fancied  he  struck  a  false 
note  once,  though." 

"It  was  all  false — false  and  cruel!" 
vehemently.  "And  why  should  he  sing 
it  there,  where  you  and  I  have  always 
had  such  good  times?" 

"  I  am  astonished,  Jane  !  But  you  never 
had  any  perception  of  character.  Bruce 
is  such  a  thoroughly  good  fellow,  I  fan 
cied  you  would  be  friends." 

"  I  never  saw  any  one  before  whom  I 
disliked  so  much,"  slowly,  as  if  to  collect 
her  verdict  with  certainty.  "He  seems 
to  me  like  so  much  unmitigated  brute 
force." 

"  Tut !  tut !"  said  the  captain  absently, 
looking  out  to  see»how  the  early  wheat 
was  coming  on. 

She  touched  his  arm  presently:  "Fa 
ther,  you  said  you  thought  we  should  be 
good  friends.  I  never  had  a  man  for  a 
friend  but  you." 

"  Certainly  not.  Good  Heavens !  what 
are  you  thinking  of?" 

"Most  girls  do,"  gravely,  her  color 
rising.  "  Oh,  I  know  all  about  the  world. 
Miss  Fleming  told  me  that  when  she  was 
my  age  she  had  a  dozen  chums — hearty, 
good  fellows." 

The  captain  hastily  put  his  arm  about 
her :  "  All  very  well  for  Cornelia  Fleming, 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


27 


child.   She's  a  middle-aged  woman.   But 
not  for  you." 

"  When  I  am  middle-aged,  then,"  look 
ing  up  at  him  anxiously,  "if  I  have  a 
friend  I  know  precisely  what  he  will  be. 
Of  fair  complexion,  placid,  truth -tell 
ing—" 

"Yourself  duplicated,"  laughed  the 
captain.  "  But  here  is  Mr.  Neckart." 

The  two  men  took  the  seat  in  front  of 
her,  and  as  night  came  on  and  the  lamps 
burned  dimly,  Jane  wrapped  her  veil 
about  her  head  and  fell  asleep.  Mr. 
Neckart  remembered  at  last  the  purpose 
of  his  visit  in  the  morning. 

"  Surely  something  can  be  done  to  com 
pel  Laidley  to  leave  the  property  to  its 
rightful  owners.  Have  you  stated  the 
case  to  him  plainly  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  ?  State  it  ?  Now,  Bruce,  how  could 
I  ?  If  I  were  not  the  one  to  be  benefited 
by  it,  I'd  put  it  to  him  forcibly  enough. 
But  as  it  is —  No,  I've  not  the  moral 
courage  for  that." 

"  But  for  your  daughter's  sake —  " 

"  I  know.  I've  thought  it  all  over.  But 
Jane  and  I  can  keep  on  in  the  old  way 
a  little  longer.  Scanty  and  happy-go- 
lucky,  but,  on  the  whole,  comfortable." 
He  was  silent  a  while,  and  then  in  a  cau 
tious  whisper  said,  "  I'll  explain  to  you, 
Bruce.  I  might  have  made  Jane's  life 
easier  if  I  had  worked.  I  know  that.  I 
know  our  friends  look  on  me  as  a  lazy, 
selfish  dog,  a  dead  weight  on  the  child. 
But — you  are  the  first  person  to  whom  I 
have  ever  told  this — I  have  had  for  many 
years  a  disorder,  an  ailment,  which  must 
in  any  case  make  my  life  a  short  one. 
Confinement  and  continued  exertion 
would  bring  on  a  crisis  at  once.  My 
physician  told  me  that  five  years  ago. 
Now  you  know  why  I  have  indulged 
myself.  I  still  hoped  some  of  the  in 
fernal  patents — "  He  choked,  and  turn 
ed  to  look  out  of  the  window. 

"  But  your  danger  is  another  reason 
why  you  should  not  be  kept  out  of  your 
property." 

"Of  course.     But  it's  my  luck." 

"  Does  your  daughter  know  this  story  ?" 

"  Xo.     Don't  tell  her,  for  God's  sake !" 
Nothing  more  was  said  until  the  train 
rolled  into  the  station. 


"Come,  Jane,  child,"  the  captain  call 
ed  briskly.  She  rose  and  took  his  arm. 

Mr.  Neckart  took  leave  of  them  under 
the  flaring  lamps  outside.  "  You  have  left 
all  the  life  and  color  of  your  face  down 
in  the  salt  air,  Miss  Swendon,"  he  said. 
"You  will  not  mark  this  holiday  with  a 
white  stone,  I  fear." 

"No,"  she  said,  waiting  until  he  was 
gone  before  she  spoke  again. — "  We  shall 
go  to  Cousin  Will's  now,  father.  I  wish 
to  say  good-night  to  him." 

"Very  well,  my  dear.  I'll  leave  you 
to  read  to  him  while  I  run  round  to  see 
if  any  letters  have  come.  I  feel  confident 
somebody  will  answer  my  advertisement 
about  the  scissors." 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  LUXURIOUS  apartment,  of  which  the 
most  salient  features  were  excess  of  heat 
and  color.  A  glowing  fire  burned  in  the 
grate.  Persian  rugs,  richly-tinted  cur 
tains,  tiger  and  leopard  skins,  light  and 
gilding  on  every  side,  threw  into  more 
miserable  contrast  Laidley's  pinched, 
pallid  face  as  he  stood  in  the  midst. 
His  back  was  to  the  fire,  his  claw-like 
hands  behind  him,  opening  and  shutting 
mechanically  as  if  to  grasp  the  heat,  his 
pale  eyes  blinking  through  his  eye-glasses 
on  Jane  standing  before  him. 

"Do  I  understand  what  you  say?"  in 
a  tone  of  blank  amazement.  "That  you, 
a  child,  come  here  to  a  dying  man  to  as 
sert  your  claim  to  his  property  !  It  is  in 
credible  that  you  came  of  your  own  free 
will.  Who  sent  you  ?" 

"Nobody,  Cousin  Will.  It  seemed  to 
me  the  thing  I  ought  to  do.  I  do  wish 
you  would  sit  down,"  anxiously.  "You 
are  not  able  to  stand." 

He  sank  into  a  chair:  "Bring  me 
some  wine." 

She  brought  the  wine,  tucked  the  leop 
ard  skins  about  him,  wiped  his  forehead 
tenderly,  placed  a  cushion  beneath  his 
feet.  He  shivered,  closed  his  eyes  for 
a  moment,  then  fixed  them  on  her : 
"Now  go  on." 

She  did  go  on  without  the  slightest 
hesitation,  without  even  a  flush  of  color, 


28 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


quick  as  her  blood  was  to  come  and  go 
when  she  was  moved.  The  thing  she 
had  to  do  evidently  seemed  to  her  ex 
ceedingly  simple  and  easy  :  "  I  knew  you 
did  not  see  the  matter  just  as  it  is,  or 
there  would  be  no  difficulty  about  it. 
No  one  else  seemed  willing  to  speak  to 
you,  and  so  I  came  myself." 

He  put  out  his  hand  toward  the  wine : 
she  set  it  within  his  reach,  and  resumed 
her  place,  one  arm  resting  on  the  man 
tel-shelf,  looking  down  at  him.  There 
was  only  that  sorrowful  pity  in  her  face 
with  which  any  large-hearted,  healthy 
woman  would  look  at  a  diseased,  dying 
man. 

"  I  don't  deny,"  he  said,  coughing 
feebly,  "that  at  first  sight  you  have  a 
crude,  illegal  claim  on  my  property — " 

"My  father — not  I,"  throwing  out  her 
hand  hastily. 

"  But  even  your  claim  admits  of  argu 
ment — argument,"  staring  into  the  fire. 
"Yet  what  if  I  should  meet  Virginie  Mo- 
rot  yonder,  and  she  should  tax  me  with 
having  wronged  her  child?"  looking 
about  him  with  a  sudden  turn. 

A  tricky  girl  could  have  gained  her 
point  now  on  the  instant.  But  Jane, 
dull  and  straightforward  as  usual,  knelt 
quickly  down  and  took  his  fingers  in  her 
own  cool,  strong  hands,  as  if  she  were 
dealing  with  a  nervous  child. 

"  Put  my  mother  out  of  the  question. 
She  is  not  going  to  blame  you  for  doing 
what  seems  to  you  just.  I  want  you  to 
see  that  it  is  not  just.  It  is  of  the  living, 
not  the  dead,  you  ought  to  think." 

"Give  me  that  medicine,  can't  you? 
My  blood  is  like  fire.  Oh,  you  stand 
there,"  after  he  had  swallowed  it,  "with 
your  dogged,  calm  way  of  putting  the 
question,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  a  new 
gown.  Hush !"  as  she  began  to  speak. 
"You  are  but  a  child.  You're  not  even 
a  clever  child.  How  can  you  under 
stand  the  relations  of  a  dying  man  to 
his.  Maker?  It  has  been  shown  to  me 
how  with  this  money  I  could  make  peace 
with  —  with  Him.  The  way  has  been 
opened  for  me  to  give  it  to  the  poor  and 
the  churches.  Why,  the  rich  man  was 
commanded  to  '  sell  all  that  he  had  and 
give  to  the  poor,  and  he  should  have 


treasure  in  heaven.'  The  place  is  mark 
ed  in  the  Bible  there."  His  hands  work 
ed  feebly  together,  and  he  looked  from 
side  to  side,  avoiding  the  face  in  front 
with  its  steady  dark  eyes.  "  Why  should 
I  take  from  the  poor  to  give  to  your 
father  ?" 

"  Because  it  is  not  yours  to  take  or 
give." 

He  waited  for  her  to  go  on,  but  she 
said  no  more.  "I  haven't  forgotten  you, 
Jane.  I've  planned  for  you  as  your  fa 
ther  never  would  have  done.  There's 
good-fortune  waiting  for  you  which  any 
woman  would  envy  you.  Go  now  — 
go!" 

"  I  did  not  come  to  you  with  any  claim 
of  my  own,"  the  indignant  lips  trembling. 
"You  shall  not  think  so  meanly  of  me  as 
that.  I  told  you  why  my  father  needs 
the  money — all  that  he  told  to  Mr.  Neck- 
art.  Surely,  you  don't  understand  ?" 

"Oh,  I  understand  your  father  very 
well."  smiling  dryly.  It  suited  him  just 
now  to  consider  the  captain  a  shrewd 
humbug,  and  his  mysterious  ailment  the 
last  dodge  to  raise  money  and  sympathy. 

The  man  at  that  moment  looked  so 
ill,  so  small  and  spiteful,  that  Jane's 
heart  gave  a  sudden  wrench  of  pity.  It 
was  a  cruel,  brutal  thing,  she  felt,  in  her 
to  stop  him  on  the  edge  of  the  grave  and 
demand  his  money.  She  put  her  hand 
to  his  forehead :  it  was  cold  and  clam 
my.  "  Don't  wrong  my  father  in  this 
way,"  she  said  in  a  lower  voice  than  be 
fore.  "  You  have  had  our  money  all  the 
time,  and  our  life  has  been  hard — hard. 
I  never  said  that  before,  but  it  is  true." 

He  looked  at  her  now,  his  courage 
flickering  up  to  meet  the  crisis :  "  I  hear 
you.  Go  on !" 

"My  father's  life  depends  upon  your 
honesty.  I  only  ask  you  to  remember 
that." 

"You  use  plain  words.  So  shall  I." 
He  thrust  his  hand  into  a  drawer  of  the 
table  before  him/drew  out  a  folded  paper 
and  pushed  it  toward  her :  "  There  is  your 
answer.  That  is  my  will.  My  property 
is  left  in  the  way  it  will  do  God  service. 
You  can  read  it  if  you  choose." 

"And  my  father — ?" 

"  I  have  not  left  him  a  dollar." 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


29 


She  turned  on  him,  silent,  a  moment : 
he  cowered  and  evaded  her  eyes. 

"You  shall  not  wrong  him.  He  shall 
not  die  for  the  want  of  the  money  if  I 
can  help  it,"  in  the  same  quiet  voice. 
She  took  up  the  paper,  passed  him  and 
laid  it  on  the  fire,  then  watched  it  shrivel 
and  burn  to  ashes.  He  could  not  have 
detained  her,  any  more  than  he  could 
stay  the  scorching  flame  with  his  hand. 

She  threw  her  cloak  about  her  with 
out  a  word,  and  drew  the  hood  over  her 
head. 

He  pulled  the  bell  violently:  "You 
have  only  given  me  the  trouble  of  pre 
paring  a  second  copy.  It  shall  be  iden 
tical  with  the  first." 

Old  Dave,  coming  in,  observed  that 
Miss  Swendon's  very  lips  were  without 
color.  But  as  she  went  out  of  the  room 
she  halted  to  move  a  screen,  so  as  to  pro 
tect  Laidley  from  the  draught. 

She  met  her  father  on  the  stairs.  "Do 
not  go  up,"  she  said.  "  David  is  with  him, 
and  I  want  you  to  take  me  home."  .  .  . 

Before  daylight  the  next  morning  Cap 
tain  Swendon  was  summoned  by  David 
to  his  master.  A  keen  north-east  wind 
had  caused  a  sudden  change  in  the 
weather,  and  Mr.  Laidley  had  sunk  rap 
idly,  and  was  now  scarcely  conscious. 

"  It  is  only  what  I  anticipated,"  said 
the  physician,  meeting  the  captain  at  the 
door.  "Though  if  he  had  remained  in 
the  South  he  might  have  lingered  until 
midsummer.  Not  longer." 

The  captain  nursed  the  dying  man 
anxiously  all  day,  and  when  he  was  dead 
came  home  excited  and  haggard.  It 
seemed  to  him  by  that  time  that  one  of 
the  most  lovable  fellows  in  the  world 


had  gone  out  of  it.  He  always  was  of 
that  opinion  at  a  funeral. 

"Well,  it's  all  over,  Jane!"  he  cried, 
coming  just  at  dusk  into  the  room,  where 
she  stood  at  the  window,  her  back  turn 
ed  toward  him.  "Yes.  Poor  Will !  He 
was  a  good  fellow  years  ago — witty,  hos 
pitable.  You  didn't  know  him  in  his 
prime.  Your  mother  liked  him.  That 
is,  well — "  He  sat  down  by  the  fire, 
staring  at  it  with  his  owlish  eyes,  pull 
ing  off  his  old  boots  and  soaked  coat, 
for  it  was  raining  hard,  and  wondering 
a  little  that  Jane  had  not  a  warm  change 
of  clothes  ready  for  him  as  usual.  But 
she  did  not  move.  "  Yes,"  with  a  groan. 
"  He  knows  the  great  secret  now,  poor 
fellow  !  I  wish  I'd  been  kinder  to  him. 
There's  lots  of  things  I  might  have  done. 
But  that  damned  money !  I  suppose  it 
soured  me." 

Jane  turned.  "  I  am  glad  /  did  what 
was  right  to  him,"  she  said  slowly. 

The  captain  looked  at  her  surprised. 
The  shock  had  been  too  heavy  on  the 
child,  he  thought :  her  eyes  were  quite 
sunken  in  her  white  face.  "Yes,  yes. 
You  were  always  a  very  nice,  attentive 
little  nurse.  But  when  anybody  dies  one 
is  apt  to  remember  one's  shortcomings 
to  them,  and  wish  for  even  an  hour  to  set 
all  right." 

"  I  have  done  nothing  to  him  which  I 
would  wish  to  set  right,"  she  said  again, 
her  lips  moving  with  difficulty. 

Her  father  did  not  answer.  But  she 
was  so  unused  to  speak  of  herself  in  any 
way  that  he  observed  her  persistence  now 
as  peculiar. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  YEAR  after  Laidley's  death,  Judge 
Rhodes,  being  in  New  York,  break 
fasted  with  Mr.  Neckart.  He  noticed 
that  the  editor  had  grown  lean  and  sal 
low.  "And  God  knows  he  had  no  good 
looks  to  spare,"  smoothing  down  his  own 
white  beard  over  his  comfortable  paunch. 
Something,  too,  of  that  easy  frankness 
which  had  made  Neckart  so  popular  was 
gone ;  no  topic  interested  him  ;  his  eye 
was  secretive  and  irritable :  he  spoke 
and  moved  under  the  constant  pressure 
of  self-control.  The  judge,  as  he  water 
ed  his  claret,  eyed  the  dark  face  opposite 
to  him  critically.  "Now,  I  never,"  he 
thought,  "saw  a  sign  of  ill -temper  or 
cruelty  in  that  man.  Yet  I  have  a  queer 
fancy  that  if  the  reins  were  once  taken 
off  he  could  not  master  himself  again. 
It  must  be  devilishly  uncomfortable,  hold 
ing  one's  self  in  in  that  way,"  the  last  mor 
sel  of  quail  sliding  down  his  throat  unc 
tuously,  "/can  let  myself  out  without 
danger." 

"Why,  you  eat  nothing!  The  cam 
paign's  been  too  much  for  you,  Mr. 
Neckart,"  he  said  aloud.  "  You've  run 
down  terribly  in  the  last  year.  Always 
the  way.  You  young  men  make  too 
many  spurts  in  the  first  heat,  and  break 
down  before  the  middle  of  the  race. 
Well,  that's  our  American  policy.  But 
the  American  physique  won't  stand  it." 

"  Do  you  only  mean  that  I  have  broken 
down  physically,  or  do  you  see  any  change 
in  my  work  ?  The  leading  articles  are 
mine,  you  know.  Don't  be  afraid  to  be 
frank." 

"Well,  now  that  you  ask  me —  Your 
articles  are  more  forcible  lately,  more 
popular :  they  bring  down  the  galleries, 
eh  ?  But  it's  a  sledge-hammer  force,  it's 
vehemence,  d'ye  see  ?  There's  a  lack  of 
that  moderation,  that  repressed  power, 
in  which  was  your  real  strength.  You 
asked  me  to  be  frank  ?" 

"Yes.  And  I  knew  just  what  you 
would  say.  Well,  what  must  be,  is !" 
30 


with  a  gesture  which  dismissed  the  sub 
ject. 

"  Nonsense  !  It's  your  nervous  system 
that  needs  toning,  that's  all.  If  our  side 
goes  in,  get  a  foreign  mission  —  some 
warm,  lazy  place  on  the  Mediterranean, 
say.  Rest  a  few  years,  and  when  you 
come  home  take  an  easier  pace  for  the 
rest  of  your  life.  Lord  bless  you,  boy ! 
I've  been  through  it  all.  When  I  was  a 
young  fellow — mere  bundle  of  nerves, 
high-strung,  sir — high-strung !  Ambition, 
love  !  Constitution  wouldn't  stand  it ! — 
Bit  of  the  steak,  John,  rare. — Joe  Rhodes, 
I  said,  either  come  down  to  the  jog-trot 
level  or  die.  So  here  I  am  !  Good  for 
forty  years  yet,  please  God !  When  you 
are  my  age  you  may  be  just  what  I  am, 
if  you  choose." 

Neckart's  eye  twinkled :  "  Try  the 
birds,  judge." 

He  made  an  effort  after  that  to  re 
sume  his  old  careless  manner,  and  the 
judge  had  tact  enough  to  drop  the  sub 
ject.  But  he  was  not  deceived.  "  There's 
more  here  than  meets  the  eye,"  he  said 
shrewdly  to  himself.  "  Neckart  has  had 
a  blow  that  has  made  him  stagger.  He 
has  worked  like  a -horse  in  a  treadmill. 
But  he  has  the  constitution  to  stand  it. 
Functions  in  healthy  condition — tremen 
dous  vital  power.  Either  hereditary  dis 
ease  is  at  work,  or  some  morbid  passion, 
or  he  would  not  have  given  way." 

He  urged  him  to  eat  with  tender  solici 
tude,  even  gave  him  his  famous  recipe 
for  a  salad.  No  matter  what  our  sym 
pathy,  our  help  for  each  other  can  sel 
dom  come  any  closer  than  skin  or  stom 
ach,  after  all. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said  presently,  "I 
hear  that  Swendon  has  bought  a  place 
up  the  Hudson.  Can  you  tell  me  any 
thing  about  him  ?" 

"  I  meet  him  everywhere,"  said  Neck- 
art.  "The  old  man  is  failing  fast.  But 
he  takes  life  just  as  he  always  did — like 
a  boy  let  loose  for  the  holidays." 

"And  his  daughter?" 


A  LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"  She  never  comes  into  town :  she  is 
not  a  woman  of  society." 

"  I  remember  the  little  Swede  was  no 
favorite  of  yours,"  noticing  a  certain  re 
serve  in  Neckart's  tone.  "  But  I  had  an 
object  in  asking  for  her.  Of  course  you 
would  not  be  likely  to  know  much  about 
them  :  they  are  out  of  your  line." 

"  I  have  met  the  captain  and  his  daugh 
ter  several  times  during  the  year,"  said 
Neckart.  "They  were  camping  on  the 
Maine  coast  last  summer,  and  I  stumbled 
into  their  tent  one  day.  Miss  Swendon 
fancied  her  father  would  grow  strong  on 
a  diet  of  fish  of  his  own  catching.  When 
the  cold  weather  set  in  she  took  him  to 
St.  Augustine.  I  ran  against  him  by  the 
old  fort  the  very  morning  I  arrived,  and 
in  the  spring  we  met  at  Omaha,  and 
made  the  overland  trip  to  California  to 
gether.  There  is  no  kind  of  air  and  no 
kind  of  amusement  which  she  has  not 
tried,  since  she  had  the  means,  to  give 
the  old  man  his  health  back  again.  To 
no  purpose,  however." 

"Very  odd!"  the  judge  nodded  mys 
teriously.  "Very  odd  indeed  about  that 
property !  Laidley  told  me  the  very 
night  before  he  died  that  he  had  made 
a  will  leaving  it  in  charity.  Now,  Jane 
inherited  by  virtue  of  a  will  made  two 
years  before.  No  other  forthcoming.  I 
suppose  remcirse  seized  him  in  articulo 
mortis.  There  was  a  curious  thing  oc 
curred  in  that  last  interview  of  mine  with 
Laidley.  —  How  can  I  see  Swendon?" 
interrupting  himself.  "Where  is  their 
house  ?" 

Mr.  Neckart  hesitated  a  moment :  "  I 
am  going  there  this  evening  to  dine  and 
spend  the  night,  and  I  will  take  you  with 
me.  It  will  be  a  surprise  which  the  cap 
tain  will  like." 

"The  very  thing!  Precisely!  The 
truth  is,  Neckart  —  light  a  cigar  —  the 
truth  is,"  lowering  his  voice  and  leaning 
over  the  table,  "  Laidley  exacted  a  half 
promise  from  me  that  night  which  trou 
bles  me.  The  fellow  died  forthwith, 
you  see,  and  so  clenched  it  on  me.  He 
had  a  plan  for  Miss  Swendon's  future, 
and  asked  me  to  forward  it.  I  thought 
he  was  going  to  cheat  the  girl,  and  paid 
little  attention  to  it.  But  he  did  the 


clean  thing  after  all,  and  then  died  prompt 
ly.  I  must  say  Laidley  acted  in  a  much 
more  decent  and  gentlemanlike  way  than 
I  expected.  So,  now  I  feel  as  if  I  owed 
it  to  the  fellow  to  keep  my  word." 

Mr.  Neckart  nodded.  He  asked  no 
questions,  but  scanned  the  judge's  flabby 
face  narrowly.  Rhodes  lifted  one  leg  on 
to  the  other  knee  and  nursed  it.  It  was 
his  confidential  attitude. 

"  It's  a  delicate  matter,  you  see.  Van 
Ness  is  concerned." 

"Van  Ness,  the  antiquarian?" 

"  Oh.  he's  more  than  that !  You  don't 
suppose  a  man  of  his  breadth  of  intellect 
confines  himself  to  old  bricks  and  dry 
bones  ?  Why,  God  bless  you  !  Pliny 
Van  Ness  is  the  final  authority  in  Phila 
delphia  on  new  singers  or  pictures  or 
cracked  teapots  or  great  religious  or 
philanthropic  reforms.  If  he  were  taken 
from  it,  the  underpinnings  of  that  town 
would  be  knocked  away,  and  it  would 
fall  flat." 

"  Last  fall,  I  think,  I  heard  he  had  a 
plan  for  enforcing  compulsory  education 
in  Pennsylvania  ?" 

"Well,  yes.  I  don't  know  why  that 
didn't  pass.  It  died  out.  Van  Ness  was 
trying,  too,  to  establish  a  grand  scheme 
for  the  benefit 'of  the  mining  population. 
But  somehow  I  haven't  heard  of  that 
lately.  Oh  he's  a  great  man,  sir  !  When 
I  hear  him  talk  half  an  hour  it  quite  lifts 
me  up  to  purer  air.  I  always  say  when 
I  come  away,  'Joe  Rhodes,  you're  a  self 
ish  scoundrel !  A  selfish  scoundrel !'  " 

The  judge  smoked  in  silence  a  few 
minutes.  "Yes,"  he  resumed  thought 
fully,  "it  was  about  Van  Ness.  Poor 
Laidley  had  that  reverence  for  him  which 
men  of  his  calibre  are  apt  to  have  for  a 
character  of  perfect  excellence,  and  in 
his  anxiety  for  Jane  he  planned  that  a 
marriage  should  be  brought  about  be 
tween  them.  I  was  to  inaugurate  the 
matter — bring  them  together.  Easily, 
naturally,  you  understand  ?  The  sort  of 
thing  that  is  done  every  day.  I've  seen 
excellent  matches  made  in  Virginia  by  a 
little  quiet  management  of  friends." 

"Yes.  It  is  done  every  day."  Mr. 
Neckart  yesterday  would  have  talked 
of  the  marriages  of  half  the  women  he 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


knew  as  "good  matches"  or  "well  man 
aged  "  without  knowing  that  he  was  vul 
gar  in  so  doing.  But  now  the  whole  idea 
struck  him  as  loathsome  and  disgusting. 
Were  women  to  be  paraded  before  their 
buyers  as  in  a  slave-market?  He  look 
ed  at  the  poor  judge  babbling  innocently 
as  he  might  at  some  venal  go-between  in 
the  markets  of  Cairo. 

"Thinking  the  matter  over,"  pursued 
the  judge  anxiously,  "it  has  occurred  to 
me  that  Laidley  would  not  have  been  so 
confident  of  Van  Ness's  ultimate  concur 
rence  in  the  scheme  unless  Pliny  had 
shown  some  prepossession  in  favor  of  the 
little  girl." 

"You  think,  then,  the  sultan  is  ready 
to  throw  the  handkerchief?"  dryly. 

"Oh,  that's  a  coarse  way  of  putting  it, 
Neckart.  But,  considered  as  a  match, 
now,  really,  you  know,  Van  Ness  is — 
The  idea  that  he  was  favorable  to  it  was 
suggested  to  me  again  yesterday  when 
he  proposed  that  we  should  look  up  the 
captain  and  call  upon  him.  He  is  not  a 
man  who  usually  makes  advances." 

"  Is  Mr.  Van  Ness  in  New  York  with 
you  ?" 

"Yes,  certainly.  I  thought  you  knew 
that." 

"And  you  propose  to  take  him  out  to 
night?" 

"  Why,  that  seemed  a  good  plan.  Un 
less  you  have  some  objection  ?" 

"What  objection  can  I  have?  What 
does  it  matter  to  me?"  He  stooped  to 
pat  his  dog,  that  sat  upright  watching  his 
face. 

"  Surely,  that  is  that  savage  wolf-hound 
of  Miss  Swendon's  ?" 

"Yes.  He  divides  his  time  between 
us."  After  a  few  minutes  he  said,  "You 
seem  to  anticipate  no  difficulty  in  the 
way  of  your  conquering  hero  ?  Yet  Miss 
Swendon  by  no  means  belongs  to  the 
warm-blooded,  susceptible  order  of  wo 
men.  This  Van  Ness,  as  I  remember 
him,  is  a  starved,  insignificant  -  looking 
fellow." 

"  Oh,  on  the  contrary  !  He  has  a  very 
noble  presence.  Pliny  is  tall,  with  much 
dignity  of  carriage." 

"  Pompous,  eh  ?    'I  am  Sir  Oracle '  ?" 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.     Rather  depre 


cating  manner,  with  a  calm  face,  beam 
ing  blue  eyes,  and  abundant  fair  hair  and 
beard.  The  very  finest  of  Saxon  types, 
in  fact." 

"Ah  ?  But  these  reformers  are  apt  to 
be  underbred,  irritable,  with  nasty  pe 
culiarities  of  habits  and  manner  which 
they  never  have  thought  it  worth  while 
to  cure.  I  suppose  your  friend  is  like 
his  brethren  ?" 

"Now,  Neckart,  just  wait  until  you  see 
Van  Ness.  You'll  be  charmed,  or  I've 
no  judgment.  Most  men  are,  and  all 
women,"  laughing  significantly. 

They  rose  at  the  moment.  As  they 
left  the  room  Neckart  caught  sight  in  a 
mirror  of  his  own  dwarfed  bulk  and  the 
massive  head  set  in  its  black  mane.  He 
stopped  and  looked  for  an  instant  at  him 
self  fixedly,  a  thing  which  he  had  not 
done  perhaps  for  years,  and  then  walked 
on  in  silence  beside  the  judge.  When 
they  parted  in  the  street  he  wrote  a  line 
on  a  card  and  gave  it  to  him. 

"  In  case  I  am  not  able  to  go  out  on 
the  same  train  with  you,  this  is  the  route 
to  the  farm,"  he  said. 

He  could  scarcely  be  courteous.  He 
was  in  a  rage  of  indignation.  Not,  of 
course,  that  it  mattered  to  him  whether 
Jane  married  this  or  any  other  man  whom 
she  loved.  She  was  only  an  acquaintance 
— more  perhaps — his  little  friend.  She 
must  marry:  he  had  thought  of  that 
often ;  and  she  would  love  —  with  a 
strength  and  fidelity  beyond  that  of  any 
woman  he  had  ever  known.  He  had 
often  thought  of  that  too.  When  the 
time  came — years  hence,  perhaps — he 
would  consult  with  her  father  as  to  the 
man.  They  must  be  satisfied  that  he 
would  make  her  happy — they  two.  It 
must  be  a  careful,  cautious,  slow  matter. 
He  might  surely  claim  so  much  of  a 
guardianship  over  her !  He  had  studied 
her  character  very  carefully,  and  appre 
ciated  it  as  a  rare  and  delicate  one ;  and 
he  was  very  fond  of  the  captain — very 
fond  of  the  captain.  But  as  for  the  plan 
of  marriage —  Mr.  Neckart  understood 
his  own  disgust  at  the  judge,  and  account 
ed  for  it  naturally.  He  had  but  little  of 
the  ordinary  chivalric  belief  in  woman's 
modesty  and  purity.  Much  knowledge 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


33 


of  female  lobbyists  and  literary  tramps 
and  champagne  -  tippling  belles  had 
shaken  his  faith,  probably. 

"But  this  girl  is  the  most  innocent, 
sincerest  thing  God  ever  made,"  he  said. 
"  She  is  clean  in  thought  and  body  and 
word." 

In  those  long  days  on  the  Maine  coast, 
or  by  the  sea-wall  at  St.  Augustine,  or 
crossing  the  interminable  mountairi- 
ranges  or  alkali  deserts,  he  had  had  time 
to  read  this  candid  soul  page  by  page : 
her  clear  skin  and  liquid  eyes  were  not 
more  transparent  than  her  thoughts.  All 
through  that  day's  work  a  young  noble 
figure  moved  like  a  shadow — a  woman 
with  the  brave  blue  eyes,  the  ruddy  lips, 
the  grand  unconsciousness  of  the  great 
women  of  her  race.  The  blood  of  As- 
lauga  and  Ingeborg  was  in  her  veins. 
So  strong  was  this  feeling  upon  him,  that 
always,  when  he  was  making  ready  to 
meet  her,  he  bathed  and  arrayed  him 
self  as  if  he  was  going  to  take  part  in 
the  rites  of  a  church  or  some  sacred 
place.  " '  So  white,  so  fair,  so  sweet  was 
she  !'  "  he  sang  softly  to  himself.  And 
guzzling  Rhodes,  with  his  oily  laugh  and 
fat  hands,  meant  to  show  her  off,  exhibit 
her  fine  points  to  this  Admirable  Crich- 
ton  of  morality,  and  persuade  him  to 
marry  her !  Was  there  any  danger  that 
she  would  love  or  marry  him  ?  She  was 
undoubtedly  dull  in  perception  of  charac 
ter  :  had  she  not  always  made  a  demigod 
of  the  silly  old  captain  ?  The  finest  ves 
sels  were  always  first  to  break  themselves 
to  pieces  against  some  earthen  pitcher. 

He  made  haste  to  take  an  early  after 
noon  train.  He  would  see  his  friends 
again  before  Rhodes  arrived. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  Hemlock  Farm,  the  captain's  new 
possession,  was  a  great  untrimmed  tract 
of  farm  and  woodland  on  the  Hudson, 
with  a  rough-hewn  stone  house,  open- 
windowed  and  wide-doored,  uncivilized 
and  picturesque,  set  down  hospitably  in 
the  midst  of  it.  Mr.  Neckart,  striking 
across  the  fields  from  the  little  station, 
caught  glimpses  through  the  forest  for  a 
3 


mile  or  two  of  its  walls  and  heavy  chim 
neys  stained  with  smoke  and  lichen. 
They  seemed  to  grow  out  of  the  ground  as 
naturally  as  the  oaks  and  gray  beeches. 

It  was  a  damp,  cool  day  in  June.  Rag 
ged  patches  of  clouds  were  driven  down 
across  the  tree-tops ;  the  dark  blue  of 
the  sky  had  yet  a  tinge  of  moist  yellow 
in  it  after  the  night's  rains  ;  the  wind  was 
wet  as  it  blew  now  and  then  gustily  in 
Neckart's  face.  He  jumped  across  a 
brush  hedge  overgrown  with  smilax  and 
blackberry  vines,  and  passed  in  under 
the  hemlocks.  They  were  dark  and  still. 
Outside,  the  sunshine  flashed  sometimes, 
pale  and  watery,  and  the  blackberries  in 
the  hedge  were  getting  rid  of  their  white 
blossoms  and  reddening  their  green 
knobs,  and  a  wild  tiger-lily  here  and 
there  blazed  its  answer  to  the  summer ; 
but  the  old  hemlocks,  just  as  Neckart 
knew  them  when  a  boy,  kept  silence  and 
nodded  thoughtfully  together,  meditating 
over  their  ancient  secret.  He  walked 
more  slowly.  How  long  was  it  since  he 
had  left  the  office  or  sat  in  the  club-room 
at  breakfast  with  Rhodes's  puffy  face  and 
unsavory  talk  ? 

Why,  even  the  hedge  with  its  sleepy 
hum  of  bees  and  yellow  butterflies  seem 
ed  to  be  of  the  world,  worldly  here.  He: 
left  it  far  behind.  The  aisles  of  the  wood . 
grew  higher  and  more  solemn,  and  slow 
ly  filled  with  pale-green  light.  The  wind 
and  rain  last  night  had  not  reached  these 
solitudes,  yet  he  climbed  over  fallen 
trunks  rank  with  soaked  emerald  moss 
and  branching  fungus  yellow  or  red  as 
coral.  A  lizard  with  bulging  eyes  of  jet 
darted  across  his  foot :  now  came  the 
whir  of  a  partridge  from  under  the  dead 
leaves,  now  the  veery  cut  the  air  with  its 
fine  silver  pipe. 

Neckart  stood  still  and  drew  long  slow 
breaths.  The  life  of  the  woods  was  like 
sleep  to  him  ;  the  air  was  marrowy,  stim 
ulating;  he  could  feel  himself  growing 
quiet  and  stronger  in  it.  A  moment 
later  he  drew  his  breath  deeper. 

"She  is  coming!"  A  tall,  erect  girl, 
bareheaded,  came  noiselessly  down  be 
tween  the  gray  trunks  of  the  trees,  her 
feet  sinking  at  each  step  into  the  dead, 
ash-colored  moss.  Her  color  rose  as  she 


34 


A   LA  W  UNTO  HERSELF. 


saw  him,  and  her  eyes  lighted,  but  she 
put  her  finger  on  her  lips.  "You  have 
frightened  them,"  she  whispered.  "  They 
have  all  gone  into  their  houses." 

"They—?" 

"Hush-h!"  She  sat  down  on  a  fall 
en  log  and  motioned  him  to  a  place  be 
side  her :  then  she  waited,  listening. 
There  was  a  space  of  silence  :  presently 
a  red  squirrel  came  out  overhead  and 
darted  along  the  limbs  ;  the  ragged  bark 
of  the  tree  in  front  of  them  was  sudden 
ly  full  of  creeping  things,  busily  hurrying 
up  and  down  ;  the  coffee  -  colored  water 
of  the  brook  at  their  feet  began  to  glance 
with  silvery  flashes  of  minnows  and  wag 
tails  ;  out  of  a  miniature  hill  came  a  long 
procession  of  ants ;  they  marched,  de 
ployed,  disappeared,  and  came  again  ; 
monster  spiders,  like  lumps  of  glittering 
enamel,  swung  in  the  air  by  invisible 
threads ;  two  black  beetles  rose  to  view 
by  Neckart's  foot,  rolling  a  white  ball 
twice  as  big  as  themselves  toward  a  flick 
er  of  clear  sunshine  on  the  grass. 

"They  are  taking  the  babies  for  a  sun- 
bath,"  whispered  Jane. 

The  muffled  hammering  of  a  wood 
pecker,  building  its  nest,  came  from  a 
hollow  tree  at  a  little  distance.  A  flock 
of  kingbirds  dashed  boisterously  through 
the  underbrush.  The  pewees  began  their 
pitiful  cry  of  "  Lost !  lost !"  a  scarlet  tan- 
ager  sat  like  a  sentinel  on  a  dead  branch 
and  challenged  them  with  a  sharp  single 
note.  The  whole  air  grew  full  of  that 
strenuous,  mysterious  wood-sound  which 
is  next  to  silence — the  voice  and  move 
ment  of  millions  of  living  things  too 
small  for  sight.  It  rose  to  a  full  orches 
tra  as  the  two  human  listeners  sat  mo 
tionless,  though  only  a  few  notes  were 
familiar  to  Neckart — the  tic-tic  of  the 
grasshoppers,  the  low  monotone  of  count 
less  unseen  springs  escaping  under  the 
grass,  the  lone  call  of  the  thrush,  a  single 
minor  note  from  a  golden  bugle.  But  it 
was  not  the  grasshoppers  or  thrush  to 
which  he  listened  breathlessly :  it  was 
the  soft  breathing  of  the  young  girl  be 
side  him,  as  she  sat  attentive,  a  quiet 
delight  in  her  face,  her  blue  eyes  gather 
ing  soft  lustre.  Nature,  when  she  and 
the  world  were  young,  might  have  look 


ed  with  such  motherly  tenderness  on  all 
her  living  things.  Her  large  nervous 
hands  were  clasped  about  her  knees  :  the 
yellow  hair  glistened  close  beside  him, 
and  as  her  full  bosom  rose  and  fell  he 
could  hear  her  heart  beat  in  the  silence. 

He  stood  up  quickly  with  a  shiver : 
"Shall  we  go  to  the  house?" 

She  rose :  "  Yes,  if  you  will.  They  are 
learning  to  know  me  now.  I  come  here 
every  day.  There  is  a  partridge  lives 
under  that  bush,  and  he  came  out  and 
actually  let  me  see  him  drum  once,  and 
yesterday  I  found  a  blacksnake  attack 
ing  a  bluebird's  nest  in  time  to  help  fight 
the  battle." 

They  had  reached  the  hedge :  Neck- 
art  held  apart  the  thorny  bushes,  but  did 
not  give  her  his  hand  to  help  her  through, 
as  he  would  have  done  to  any  other  wo 
man.  He  was  always  scant  in  personal 
courtesies  to  her. 

She  looked  back  at  the  woods:  "Yes, 
there  they  all  live  and  keep  house,  and 
marry  and  quarrel  and  die.  It  does  not 
concern  them  at  all  what  man  you  make 
President,  Mr.  Neckart.  It  is  very  hard 
to  make  their  acquaintance.  I  think  they 
ought  to  know  their  friends  at  sight." 

"I  don't  know.  I  know  two  human 
beings,"  said  Neckart  gravely,  "who, 
when  they  first  met,  felt  a  strong  mu 
tual  antipathy,  and  now  they — 

She  turned,  looking  keenly  at  him. 

"They  are  good  friends.  Miss  Swen- 
don,"  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"Yes.  There  could  not  be  any  bet 
ter,"  putting  out  her  hand  frankly.  He 
held  it  but  an  instant,  as  he  might  have 
done  a  boy's  when  offered  to  him  ;  but  as 
she  turned  away  a  soft  lovely  color  dyed 
her  throat  and  face. 

"There  is  so  much  wild  mint  growing 
here,"  she  said  incoherently,  stooping  to 
gather  it,  "  and  pennyroyal,  and  a  plenty 
of  sweet  basil.  I  am  going  to  have  an 
herb-  and  seed-room,  and  give  out  the 
seeds  to  Twiss  myself  next  spring.  I 
have  not  told  you  any  of  the  news.  Fa 
ther  has  slept  every  night  without  a  tonic. 
Don't  you  think  his  color  is  better  ?  Did 
you  see  him  yesterday  ?"  anxiously. 

"Oh,  it  is  better  without  doubt." 

"  I  am  quite  sure,  now,  we  did  the  very 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


35 


wisest  thing  in  coming  here.  The  house 
is  on  an  elevation,  you  see — above  any 
chance  of  malaria — and  then  the  warm 
moisture  from  the  river — just  what  he 
needs.  And  the  going  to  town —  Do 
you  often  meet  him  in  town  ?  Is  he  en 
joying  himself?  Did  it  strike  you  that 
he  was  improving  until  I  suggested  it?" 

"  Why,  it  was  only  to-day,"  said  Neck- 
art,  "that  I  told  Judge  Rhodes  how  I  met 
Captain  Swendon  everywhere  —  at  the 
club — " 

"Yes.  /urged  him  to  join  the  club,1' 
her  face  beaming. 

"  Couldn't  have  been  a  wiser  move. 
— At  the  club,  at  dinners,  at  the  theatre, 
meeting  old  friends,  taking  in  new  life 
everywhere,  and  making  new  life  for  ev 
erybody.  Why,  to  see  him  on  Broadway 
waving  his  hat  and  calling  '  Hillo  !'  to 
somebody  across  the  street  puts  even  the 
cab-horses  in  good  humor." 

She  laughed :  "  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it ! 
And  here  on  rainy  days  he  has  so  much 
to  do.  He  is  trying  every  one  of  his  pat 
ents  in  the  house  or  grounds.  I  am  fit 
ting  up  a  billiard-room  to  surprise  him 
on  his  birthday.  But  come  and  I'll  show 
you  some  of  the  patents  at  work.  And 
I  have  never  showed  you  the  barn  or  the 
orchard.  Father  will  not  be  at  home  un 
til  evening.  He  expected  to  meet  you 
on  the  train.  We  can  go  exploring  all 
the  afternoon." 

They  crossed  the  meadow  to  the  barn, 
Jane  explaining  that  the  former  owner  of 
the  Hemlocks  had  lived  for  years  in  Eu 
rope,  and  left  house  and  land  to  run  into 
their  present  overgrown  decay.  "  Farm 
er  and  gardeners  worry  about  new  fences 
and  repairs,  but  I  will  not  have  even  the 
dead  leaves  cleared  from  the  paths.  I 
remember  you  said  once  you  liked  to 
hear  them  crisp  under  your  feet,"  sliding 
her  own  feet  among  them. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  idle,  pur 
poseless  afternoon  which  any  practical 
man  or  woman  would  have  thought  wor 
thy  of  an  hour's  remembrance ;  yet  it 
stood  out  for  ever  after,  above  all  of 
Bruce  Neckart's  life,  as  some  fair  table 
land  lifted  from  the  fogs  near  to  the 
sun. 

They  went  into  the  house,  examined 


patent  hinges  and  locks,  and  explored 
the  vacant  rooms  and  mysterious  gar 
rets  filled  with  lumber.  She  sat  down 
by  an  old  spinning-wheel,  turning  it  and 
singing  a  scrap  of  Gretchen's  song,  while 
the  light  from  the  dormer  window  touch 
ed  her  white  arched  throat  and  yellow 
hair.  They  went  to  the  stables,  and  the 
old  Scotch  hostler  brought  out  the  horses 
and  talked  with  Neckart  of  the  mysteries 
of  flanks  and  strains  of  blood,  while  Jane 
looked  on  shyly,  standing  with  the  dog 
in  the  wide  door. 

"  Maybe  I  shall  know  them  as  well  as 
I  do  you  some  day,  Bruno,"  she  said 
gravely  to  him.  "  But  I  shall  never  like 
them  as  well.  That  wouldn't  be  possi 
ble:  they're  strangers."  The  dog  nuz 
zled  his  head  into  her  hand  and  march 
ed  steadily  beside  her.  Then  she  took 
Neckart  and  Bruno  over  a  little  hill  to 
a  spring- house,  into  which  you  went 
through  a  mossy  door  across  a  spark 
ling  little  brook.  She  went  inside  and 
brought  out  a  bowl  of  yellow  cream,  all 
of  them  watching  the  kitchen  windows 
guiltily  as  she  did  it ;  and  then  they  went 
on  aimlessly  across  the  stepping-stones 
in  the  brook  up  through  the  field  of  young 
corn  until  they  skirted  the  brush  hedge 
again,  when  Bruno  left  them  in  pursuit 
of  ground-squirrels.  There  was  a  bank 
running  along  the  river -shore,  topped 
with  nodding  ferns  and  purple  iron-weed, 
and  brown  with  the  soft,  feathery  tops  of 
the  mouse-ear.  The  bank  was  on  one 
side,  the  water  on  the  other,  swift,  dark, 
mobile,  throwing  back  now  a  still  belt  of 
sunshine,  now  gloomy  woods,  now  the 
yellow  shadows  of  low -driven  clouds. 
They  walked  with  the  river,  not  against 
it.  The  wind  blew  damp  in  their  faces. 
Since  Neckart  had  talked  so  confidently 
of  her  father's  improvement,  Jane  had 
been  gay  and  light-hearted  as  a  child, 
with  a  nervous  quaver  now  and  then  in 
her  voice  as  if  a  word  would  bring  the 
tears.  She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully 
as  they  walked  on. 

"You  ought  to  go  to  California  again," 
she  said  abruptly. 

"  I  can  take  tonics  at  home,  if  you  mean 
that  I  need  them." 

"  Yes.    You  are  more  worn  and  hag- 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


gard  than  when  we  left  Omaha.  Every 
day  of  the  journey  I  used  to  see  how  the 
wrinkles  left  your  forehead,  and  your  eye 
cleared  and  your  voice  changed.  It  was 
the  mountain-air.  There  is  no  tonic  for 
you  like  the  mountain-air." 

Neckart  shifted  his  hat  uneasily,  and 
turned  to  look  at  the  river  as  though  the 
frank  blue  eyes  anxiously  inspecting  his 
face  hurt  him. 

"I  was  harassed  and  perplexed  then 
as  to  the  policy  which  I  should  adopt  for 
the  paper  in  a  certain  political  question. 
My  grim  looks  were  no  doubt  owing  to 
that.  You  decided  the  question  for  me." 

"  I  ?  Why,  I  know  nothing  of  politics." 

"  No.  But  the  choice  offered  me  was 
between  right  and  financial  ruin  on  one 
side,  and  a  fortune  and  neutrality  on  the 
other.  It  would  be  impossible,"  in  a  tone 
which  suddenly  became  careless  and 
matter  of  fact,  "for  any  man  to  come  in 
contact  with  a  nature  as  absolutely  hon 
est  as  yours,  Miss  Swendon,  and  not  be 
influenced  by  it.  I  do  not  think  I  spoke 
to  you  at  all  of  this  question,  yet  it  seem 
ed  to  me  that  you  dictated  every  step  of 
my  course.  I  never  have  told  you  of  my 
affairs  since,  yet  every  day  I  take  your 
advice  on  them.  It  is  always  different 
from  that  of  my  political  friends,  because 
it  is  simply  the  broad  truth  and  common 
sense.  I  follow  it."  He  turned  to  her 
with  one  of  his  rare  smiles  and  an  odd 
break  in  his  controlled  voice.  "  I  hold 
your  hand  in  mine  every  step  of  my 
way." 

She  did  not  smile  in  return.  She  was 
standing  still  in  the  path,  as  though  she 
had  been  stopped  by  a  blow.  "  Honest  ? 
/  honest  ?"  she  said. 

The  dog  jumped  up  on  her  breast  to 
go  on  with  his  romp.  She  pushed  him 
down,  looking  straight  into  Neckart's 
amazed  face. 

"You  may  have  made  mistakes:  ev 
erybody  is  liable  to  do  that,"  he  stam 
mered.  "But  as  for  sincerity — " 

She  drew  a  long  breath  as  if  throwing 
off  a  burden :  "No.  I  have  been  honest. 
You  are  not  wrong  about  me  there.  I 
have  made  no  mistakes."  She  turned 
and  walked  on  quickly. 

As  he  followed  her  he  observed  for  the 


first  time  how  steady  was  her  step  and 
how  close  set  the  finely-cut  jaws.  His 
own  mouth,  by  the  way,  was  coarser, 
but  more  facile :  it  spoke  when  silent : 
the  chin  was  cleft  and  sensitive. 

"When  she  once  makes  up  her  mind, 
the  verdict  of  the  whole  world  will  not 
make  her  flinch,"  he  thought  with  keen 
approval.  The  quality  which  he  had  that 
very  day  damned  as  mulish  obstinacy  in 
one  of  his  clerks  was  infinitely  alluring  to 
him  in  this  young  girl.  He  came  closer  to 
her,  watching  her  averted  face,  a  passion 
of  delight  and  longing  gradually  dulling 
all  past  resolves  or  reason. 

If  she  would  but  turn  her  eyes  on  his 
face  again  searching  for  signs  of  trouble 
or  illness  !  It  was  actually  the  first  time 
in  Neckart's  life  that  a  woman  had  taken 
any  care  of  him.  His  mother  had  been 
a  burden  and  charge  on  him  since  his 
boyhood.  That  single  kindly  glance  had 
opened  to  him  unknown  possibilities  of 
tenderness,  of  the  touch  of  a  woman's 
fingers,  and  all  that  came  to  other  men 
through  them. 

But  she  walked  on  without  speaking, 
her  head  sunk  on  her  breast.  She  seem 
ed  to  have  forgotten  that  he  was  in  the 
world. 

At  a  bend  in  the  road  they  met  the 
captain.  He  was  heated  and  agitated, 
and  tried  to  hide  it  by  tremendous  hilar 
ity.  He  welcomed  Neckart  boisterous 
ly,  shaking  hands  with  him  again  and 
again  before  he  turned  to  Jane,  who 
stood  watching  him  with  delighted  eyes. 

"  How  well  you  are  looking  this  after 
noon,  father !  Your  cheeks  are  as  red  as 
a  girl's !" 

"  Oh,  I'm  all  right !  Don't  bother  about 
me.  Think  of  other  people  sometimes, 
child.  Now,  there's  a  matter  I  want  to 
speak  to  you  about,  if  I  could  only  put 
it  to  you  properly." 

"I  am  ready.  Put  it  directly,  point- 
blank  :  that  is  the  best  way  in  delicate 
questions." 

"  Don't  laugh.  It's  no  laughing  mat 
ter.  It's  the  most  serious  business  of  my 
life,  and  I've  only  a  few  minutes  to  make 
you  understand,"  mopping  his  hot  fore 
head  with  his  handkerchief.  "The  train 
will  be  due  in  half  an  hour." 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


37 


"  The  train  ?  Serious  business  ?  The 
commissioner  of  patents  is  coming? — " 

"  Damn  the  patents  !  I  beg  your  par 
don,  Jane.  But  really —  This  is  a  re 
quest  I  have  to  make  of  you.  A  request 
of  you  from  poor  Will  Laidley." 

She  drew  back.  The  weight  which 
she  had  a  moment  ago  thrown  off  fell 
on  her  again.  "A  request  of  me?"  she 
said  slowly.  "Whatever  he  asked  me 
to  do  I  shall  do.  I  owe  him  at  least  so 
much." 

"  Of  course !  You  owe  him  everything. 
You  know  he  might  have  left  us  without 
a  penny,  as  he  thought  of  doing.  In 
stead  of  which,  there  was  not  even  a 
legacy  to  any  charity." 

"  No.  Every  dollar  of  it  came  to  me. 
I  know." 

"Oh,  Will  behaved  most  generously, 
nobly,  to  you,  there's  no  doubt  of  it ! 
And  this  plan  of  his  shows  such  tender 
care  of  you.  I  never  heard  of  it  until 
to-day  from  Judge  Rhodes.  God  forbid 
that  I  should  influence  you !  But  you 
would  be  sorry  to  thwart  him  in  his 
grave." 

"  I  will  not  thwart  him  again." 

"If  I  could  put  it  to  you  properly 
now  !"  The  captain  grew  red  and  cough 
ed.  Mr.  Neckart  looked  at  him  with 
fierce  disgust.  Was  he  so  brutal  as  to 
talk  to  any  woman  of  her  marriage  with 
a  man  whom  she  had  never  seen  ? 

"You  forget,"  he  said  coldly.  "Miss 
Swendon  owes  no  gratitude  for  money 
which  was  justly  her  own.  William 
Laidley,  too,  was  a  weak,  impure  man — 
the  very  last  who  should  be  allowed  to 
stretch  his  hand  out  of  his  grave  to  con 
trol  any  woman's  life.  You  should  not 
hamper  her  with  any  such  gratitude." 

"You  cannot  judge  of  this  for  me,  Mr. 
Neckart,"  said  Jane.  "  He  has  the  right, 
especially  when  it  concerns  his  money. 
— What  is  it  he  wished  me  to  do  ?" 

The  captain  stammered  with  embarrass 
ment. 

"  Tut !  tut !  Money  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it. — As  for  poor  Will,  Bruce,  he  had 
his  good  points.  De  mortuis — you  know. 
I  knew  him  in  his  prime.  It's  a  trifle, 
after  all,"  evading  Neckart's  eye,  of  which 
he  had  read  the  meaning.  "  But  you  are 


so  apt,  Jane,  to  take  unreasonable  preju 
dices  against  people.  This  is  a  friend 
of  Will's,  whom  Judge  Rhodes  will  bring 
out  this  evening.  And  it  was  your  cou 
sin's  wish  that  he  should  be  your  friend 
also  —  adviser,  eh  ?  I've  no  head  for 
business,  you  know,  and  you  might  refer 
knotty  questions  to  him.  Consult  him 
about  stocks,  and  the  drainage  of  the 
stables,  and  this  and  that,"  glancing  at 
Neckart  for  approval  of  his  delicacy  and 
cunning.  "I  only  wanted  to  warn  you 
not  to  take  an  antipathy  to  him,  but  I 
am  clumsy — " 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  putting  her  hand  to  her 
eyes  for  a  minute  as  though  they  ached. 
— "  Come,  Bruno.  It  is  time  to  dress  for 
dinner." 

"  Yes,  do,  my  dear.  Haven't  you  any 
dress  with  frills  and  fal-lals,  such  as  the 
ladies  are  wearing  now  ?  These  cling 
ing  gowns  do  well  enough  for  home- 
folks  like  me  and  Bruce,  but —  Some 
thing  airy,  gay,  now.  It's  only  as  an  ad 
viser  that  Will  recommended  Mr.  Van 
Ness  to  you,  you  understand  ?  Your 
cousin  consulted  him  of  late  years  in 
all  financial  matters.  I  do  suppose  Van 
Ness — and  Laidley  too,"  turning  to  Neck- 
art — "would  think  the  child  was  flinging 
the  money  to  the  dogs,  buying  such  a 
place  as  this  to  humor  her  old  father's 
whims." 

Jane  halted,  her  hands  on  the  dog's 
collar :  "  I  will  have  no  advice  from  Mr. 
Van  Ness,  father,  as  to  my  disposal  of 
the  money.  It  is  mine.  No  man,  dead 
or  living,  shall  interfere  with  my  use  of 
it,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Now  I've  prejudiced  her  against  him," 
groaned  the  captain  as  soon  as  she  was 
out  of  sight.  "  I  saw  you  thought  me 
coarse  in  urging  this  matter  on  her  so 
abruptly,  Bruce.  But  you  do  not  under 
stand.  My  time  here  is  short  —  God 
knows  how  soon  it  may  end  —  and  I 
can't  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  the 
child  alone.  Van  Ness  is  so  pure  a  man 
— a  Christian  whom  all  the  world  rever 
ences —  What  better  can  I  hope  than 
to  see  her  his  wife  before  I  go  ?" 

"  His  wife  ?" 

"Yes.  Is  there  any  objection  to  him  ? 
Be  frank,  Bruce.  It  is  nothing  to  you, 


268893 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


but  it's  life  and  death  to  me.  Van  Ness 
told  Judge  Rhodes  candidly  this  morning 
that  he  had  watched  Jane  since  she  was 
a  child,  himself  unknown,  and  that  it 
was  his  hope  their  acquaintance  would 
deepen  into  something-  wanner  than 
friendship." 

"  Good  God  !  what  a  model  lover  ! 
Stands  off  watching  for  years  —  weighs 
her  carefully  in  his  scales.  Item,  so 
much  amiability :  item,  so  many  pounds 
of  healthy  flesh ;  item,  annual  income 
so  much.  Then  he  steps  in  to  inspect 
her  a  little  closer,  and  if  she  prove  satis 
factory  he  will  marry  her." 

"Bruce,  you're  unjust.  Every  man 
has  not  your  sensitiveness.  The  way 
that  Rhodes  stated  it  there  really  was  no 
indelicacy  in  it.  Do  you  know  any  ob 
jection  to  Van  Ness?  Be  candid.  Have 
you  any  reason  to  urge  against  the  mar 
riage  in  case — ?" 

Mr.  Neckart  did  not  answer  for  a  few 
moments.  He  had  been  smoking,  but 
the  cigar  went  out  in  his  mouth.  "No," 
he  said  at  last.  "  I  have  no  objection  to 
urge  to  it.  I  have  nothing  to  say.  Go 
in,  captain.  The  train  is  due  now.  I 
will  follow  you  when  I  have  finished  my 
cigar." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Miss  SWENDON,  going  up  the  wooded 
hill  toward  the  house,  raising  her  head, 
saw  a  man  coming  toward  her  down  the 
narrow  path.  The  low  sunlight  struck 
through  the  trees  on  his  broad  forehead 
and  magnificent  golden  beard  flowing 
full  on  his  breast.  He  was  in  evening- 
dress  ;  a  topaz  blazed  on  his  snowy  shirt- 
front  ;  he  walked  meditatively,  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him ;  his  eyes  rested  on 
her  with  beaming  pleasure.  She  turned 
her  head  away,  but  saw  him,  without  her 
eyes,  advancing  upon  her  —  coming,  it 
seemed  to  her,  into  her  life. 

Mr.  Van  Ness's  personality  indeed  was 
too  potent  to  admit  of  his  slying  unno 
ticed,  like  an  ordinary  human  being,  in 
and  out  of  anybody's  vision.  You  might 
look  at  him  but  for  a  moment,  but  his 
majestic  port,  the  fineness  of  his  linen, 


the  very  set  of  his  high  hat,  his  Christian 
benignity  and  grace,  remained  with  you 
ever  after,  a  possession  of  comfort  and 
joy. 

Jane  knew  him  at  a  glance,  though 
they  had  never  met  before.  All  of  her 
life  she  had  heard  Aristides  called  the 
Just,  and  been  a  trifle  bored  by  it.  Un 
doubtedly  this  was  he.  She  was  not 
petulant  or  bored  now. 

If  we  want  a  key  to  her  feeling,  we 
can  find  it  in  the  fact  that  there  was  not 
a  moment  since  she  burned  the  will  that 
she  had  not  known  that  she  was  right  in 
doing  it,  and  that  there  was  not  a  mo 
ment  in  which  she  had  not  remembered 
that  in  the  judgment  of  the  world  she 
was  a  thief. 

Here  was  the  man  sent  by  Laidley 
out  of  his  grave  to  judge  her,  a  man 
who  was  embodied  Virtue  and  Honor — 
in  the  world's  eye. 

There  was  evidently  no  doubt  in  Mr. 
Van  Ness's  mind,  either,  as  to  who  the 
slight  erect  woman  might  be  who  came 
slowly  up  the  rocky  path,  one  hand  on 
the  dog's  collar,  the  folds  of  her  blue 
dress  falling  about  her  like  the  drapery 
of  an  antique  statue,  the  coils  of  yellow 
hair  only  held  in  place  by  a  black  velvet 
band.  If  he  had  been  watching  her 
growth  for  years,  as  he  said,  waiting  for 
this  supreme  moment,  he  gave  no  sign 
of  emotion  now  that  it  had  arrived,  ex 
cept  that  the  radiance  in  his  protruding 
light  eyes  became  more  intense.  I  may 
as  well  say,  once  for  all,  that  Mr.  Van 
Ness  never  was  known  to  yield  to  weak 
emotion,  irritability  or  any  of  those  vi 
cious  humors  which  beset  other  men. 
If  he  had  done  so  it  would  have  griev 
ously  wounded  the  faith  of  his  disciples. 
He  possibly  had  met  these  temptations 
in  his  cradle,  as  the  infant  Hercules  the 
serpents,  strangled  them  and  left  them 
dead  there,  so  passing  into  a  serene  boy 
hood  and  victorious  middle  age. 

Bruno  at  this  moment  caught  sight  of 
the  stranger,  and  began  to  growl  omi 
nously.  Now,  the  dog  was  an  amiable, 
courteous  dog  ordinarily,  but  subject,  like 
his  mistress,  to  irrational  antipathies,  and, 
like  her,  with  a  large  reserve  of  untamed 
blood  to  support  his  prejudices.  He 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


39 


stopped,  dropped  his  head  between  his 
fore  legs,  his  eyeballs  reddened,  he 
barked  a  short,  sharp  warning.  Miss 
Swendon  knew  the  signs  :  she  had  seen 
them  once  before.  She  caught  him  by 
the  collar,  looking  straight  at  the  excep 
tionally  handsome  man  with  the  un 
derbred  blaze  of  yellow  on  his  shirt- 
front:  "Down!  down,  sir!  —  You  had 
better  go  back,"  to  Mr.  Van  Ness.  "I 
beg  of  you  to  go  back." 

"No,  no,"  gently,  and  still  advancing. 
"Poor  fellow!  —  Let  me  catch  his  eye, 
Miss  Swendon." 

It  was  something  in  the  eye,  however, 
which  maddened  the  dog:  he  shook  in 
every  limb ;  his  lips  were  drawn  back ; 
the  sharp  teeth  glistened. 

Jane  threw  herself  on  her  knees,  her 
arms  about  his  throat :  she  motioned  Van 
Ness  back  with  her  head,  but  the  en 
raged  animal  threw  her  off  as  he  would 
a  wisp  of  straw,  and  sprang  straight  at 
his  throat.  Van  Ness,  though  a  heavily- 
built  man,  staggered  back ;  but  he  caught 
the  dog  about  the  throat  with  both  hands, 
and  held  him  as  in  a  vise.  The  red  eye 
balls  and  panting  tongue  were  close  to 
his  face.  Next,  Bruno  struck  with  his 
paw  at  one  of  the  white  soft  hands,  and 
tore  a  great  gash  in  it,  from  which  the 
blood  gushed ;  but  the  pleasant  smile 
did  not  leave  the  lips  of  his  antagonist. 

"  Now,  Miss  Swendon,"  he  said  gently, 
"I  think  you  can  soothe  him.  I  will 
hold  him  quiet  to  listen  to  reason." 

Jane  came  to  him,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  had  the  beast  subdued  and  lying 
panting  at  her  feet,  his  bloodshot  eye 
still  fixed  on  Van  Ness.  She  was  pale 
and  trembling,  offered  her  handkerchief 
to  tie  up  the  wounded  hand,  and  was 
humble  in  her  apologies ;  but  Van  Ness 
knew  all  the  while  that  her  sympathies 
were  with  the  dog.  Judge  Rhodes  had 
heard  the  scuffle,  and  arrived  now,  out 
of  breath,  and  violent  in  his  abuse  of 
poor  Bruno. 

"Why  you  keep  such  an  ill-condition 
ed  beast,  Jane,  I  cannot  understand,"  he 
cried  as  he  swabbed  and  tied  the  wound. 

Mr.  Van  Ness  beamed  down  unruffled 
on  the  stout  little  man :  "You  are  always 
unjust  to  dogs,  Rhodes.  Now,  I  should 


say  that  our  friend  Bruno  was  one  of  the 
Brahmin  caste  —  fine-natured  and  well- 
bred  as  a  rule.  Liable  to  mistakes,  per 
haps. — I  am  right,  Miss  Swendon  ?"  and 
he  beamed  down  in  his  turn  on  Jane, 
who  sat  on  the  bank,  stroking  the  dog's 
muzzle  as  it  lay  on  her  knee.  She  forced 
a  smile  which  proved  a  failure,  said  that 
he  was  right,  and  that  she  must  hurry 
before  them  to  the  house.  She  stopped 
as  soon  as  she  was  out  of  sight  to  hug 
the  dog  with  a  sob  :  "  But  we  are  not  wild 
beasts,  are  we,  Bruno  ?" 

She  felt  the  dog's  insane  desire  to  tear 
off  this  amiability,  this  cloying  gentle 
ness  of  the  newcomer,  and.  find  what 
was  beneath.  It  was  just  as  it  used  to  be 
long  ago  when  prim,  polite  little  misses 
came  to  play  with  her — white,  pink-eyed 
poodles  consorting  with  a  big  Newfound 
land.  She  used  to  feel  clumsy  and  worst 
ed  beside  them,  possessed  by  the  devil 
too  to  scare  and  disgust  them.  Yet  she 
knew  herself  more  right  than  they  all 
the  time. 

When  she  sat  at  the  head  of  the  din 
ner-table  an  hour  or  two  later,  soft  silk 
en  drapery  having  taken  the  place  of  the 
soft  woollen,  and  her  usual  calm  good 
temper  on  the  surface  instead  of  pallor 
and  tears,  her  secret  mood  was  very 
much  the  same.  Mr.  Neckart  sat  apart 
from  her :  he  spoke  little,  and  that  only 
to  the  captain,  who  was  eager  about  the 
political  question  of  the  day.  Judge 
Rhodes,  dropping  his  voice,  poured  into 
her  ear  eulogiums  on  Van  Ness. 

"  Did  you  see  him  smiling  down  on 
that  brute  ?  Now,  how  did  he  know  but 
he  had  given  him  the  hydrophobia  ?" 

"I  appreciated  the  self-control,"  smi 
ling.  "So did  Bruno.  It  drove  him  mad." 

"  Self-control  ?  I  tell  you,  it's  super 
human  !  I've  thought  sometimes  it  was 
a  divine  power  sustaining  him.  Why, 
I  saw  that  man  at  his  mother's  deathbed. 
She  lay  in  his  arms,  and  he  sang  to  her 
— hymns,  you  know — sang  to  her  in  a 
clear,  unbroken  voice  until  her  spirit  had 
passed  out  of  hearing.  I  couldn't  have 
done  it,  even  for  a  stranger." 

"  I  am  sure  you  could  not,"  said  Miss 
Swendon. 

"  He  sinks  self  out  of  sight  wholly,  you 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


see.  Now,  he  had  a  dog  once — a  hound 
like  yours  —  brought  him  up.  It  was 
touching  to  see  them  together — the  de 
votion  of  the  poor  brute.  Well,  he  sold 
him,  and  gave  the  hundred  dollars  to  his 
State  Home  for  Children.  He  could  not 
afford  such  a  luxury  as  the  dog's  love,  he 
said,  while  these  poor  wretches  needed  so 
much." 

"But  my  dog,"  said  Miss  Swendon 
quite  distinctly,  "is  more  to  me  than  all 
the  wretches  in  Pennsylvania." 

There  was  an  awkward  silence. 

Mr.  Van  Ness  turned  his  handsome 
face  on  her  with  a  benign  nod:  "How 
natural  and  beautiful  that  is  !  Her  dog 
and  her  babe  and  her  lover  are  more  to 
a  woman  than  all  the  outside  world.  So 
they  ought  to  be !  Love  is  like  air :  when 
it  is  confined  it  only  fills  a  given  space, 
but  give  it  escape  and  it  spreads  over  all 
God's  creation.  The  day  is  not  far  dis 
tant  when  young,  fair  women  will  freely 
give  themselves  to  the  work  of  raising 
the  dangerous  classes." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said 
Rhodes.  "  I'm  growing  hopeless.  What 
with  ignorance  and  whiskey  and  conceit, 
the  dangerous  classes  even  here  are  too 
heavily  handicapped  to  make  any  run 
ning.  They  will  need  two  or  three  lives 
after  this,  it  seems  to  me,  to  bring  them 
up  to  a  fair  starting-point." 

"  That's  a  fact !"  cried  the  captain. 
"Now,  there  are  beggars.  My  plan  is 
to  give  to  'em  all,  and  so  be  on  the  safe 
side ;  but  the  organized  charities  tell  us 
they  are  all  impostors ;  and  then  every 
day  some  organized  charity  turns  out  a 
swindle !  What  is  a  man  to  do  ?" 

"To  do?  Give  himself  up,  I  suppose, 
to  the  cause  of  the  poor  and  the  Lord,  as 
this  man  has  done  !"  cried  the  judge 
earnestly,  touching  Van  Ness  on  the 
shoulder,  who  shook  his  head  and  smiled 
— a  sad,  deprecating  smile. 

"  Don't  look  for  wages  of  any  sort, 
then.  If  a  man  wants  to  be  suspected 
by  the  rich  and  abused  by  the  poor,  let 
him  take  up  my  work,"  he  said  a  mo 
ment  after,  meeting  Neckart's  eye  with 
a  frank  laugh. 

"No  doubt  you  are  right,"  said  Mr. 
Neckart  gravely.  "I  never  tried  it." 


They  were  rising  from  the  table  at  the 
moment.  As  they  passed  through  the 
hall,  Mr.  Neckart  halted  beside  a  window 
in  which  grew  some  house-plants.  Jane 
came  directly  to  him.  She  had  fallen  of 
late  into  the  habit  of  consulting  him  in 
all  her  plans,  as  they  both  knew  very 
well  that  she  was  not  at  all  a  capable 
woman — according  to  the  New  England 
idea :  she  lacked  acuteness  and  know 
ledge  of  facts  and  all  the  fashionable 
aptitudes.  She  had  not  even  cognizance 
enough  of  Wagner  or  cloisonne  or  old 
andirons  to  put  her  en  rapport  with  her 
times. 

It  was  a  daily  matter  for  her  to  appeal 
to  Neckart  to  help  her  ignorance  here  or 
there,  yet  when  he  heard  the  soft  rustle 
of  her  skirts  beside  him  he  grew  percept 
ibly  colder  and  stiffer,  waiting  without  a 
smile  for  her  to  speak. 

"I  have  brought  my  mind,  as  usual, 
to  have  it  made  up,"  she  began  gayly, 
growing  instantly  sober  when  she  caught 
his  glance.  "  What  do  I  want  with  this 
ready-made  Mentor  ?  Do  you  think  I 
need  a  financial  adviser?" 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  find  Mr. 
Van  Ness  both  shrewd  and  honest  in 
that  capacity,  if  you  choose  to  consult 
him." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  I  suppose  the  mon 
ey  is  invested  properly.  I  draw  the  div 
idends  regularly,  and  I  have  no  use  for 
money  but  one.  I  mean  to  make  my 
father's  life  happy  with  it,  and  I  know 
how  to  do  that.  Nobody  can  teach  me. 
What  have  I  to  do  with  this  reformer  and 
his  State  Home  ?" 

Mr.  Neckart  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
looking  down  on  her  in  her  occasional 
outbursts  with  an  amused  indulgence  as 
from  an  immeasurable  difference  of  years. 
He  was  looking  down  at  her  now  with 
unsmiling  and,  as  she  thought,  unfriend 
ly  eyes ;  but  she  was  suddenly,  for  the 
first  time,  conscious  of  how  young  he 
actually  was,  and  how  near  to  her  in 
many  unworded,  fathomless  ways.  She 
drew  back  within  the  narrow  limits  of 
the  window,  and  was  silent. 

He  withdrew  his  eyes  from  her  with 
an  effort,  and  did  not  immediately  an 
swer.  When  he  did,  it  was  in  a  cool 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF.  ' 


business  tone.  "  I  do  not  know  what 
relation  Mr.  Van  Ness  may  hold  to  you 
hereafter,  if  "any,"  he  said.  "But  he 
seems  to  me  thoroughly  honest  and 
manly.  He  is  the  first  professed  re 
former  I  ever  saw  who  was  not  either 
subservient  or  aggressive  to  me,  as  a 
newspaper -man  who  did  not  ride  his 
hobby." 

"  I  do  not  see  him  with  your  eyes,"  she 
said  with  a  shrug.  "  Bruno's,  rather." 

Neckart  laughed.  After  the  manner 
of  men,  he  had  judged  the  man  who  was 
crossing  his  life  with  calm  common  sense 
and  justice,  but  he  was  quite  satisfied  that 
the  woman  with  neither  should  condemn 
him. 

The  late  clear  twilight  lingered  with  a 
haze  of  red  in  the  sky,  although  the  sun 
had  been  down  for  an  hour  or  more. 
Jane  stood  irresolutely  in  the  window. 
Through  the  bushes  she  could  see  the 
stoop  where  her  father  and  the  judge  sat 
smoking,  Mr.  Van  Ness  beside  them,  his 
benign,  sheep-like  gaze  wandering  slow 
ly  around  in  search  of  her. 

"  Of  course  he  does  not  smoke !"  she 
said.  "He  has  not  a  single  weak 
ness  on  which  one  can  hang  a  liking ; 
and  he  has  actually  taken  father's  own 
chair !"  which  by  the  way  she  had  cush 
ioned  herself  years  ago,  when  it  and 
two  small  stools  furnished  their  shabby 
room.  No  wonder  that  she  and  the  cap 
tain  looked  upon  it  as  a  sacred  relic. 

The  window  where  they  stood  was 
shaded  on  the  outside  by  privet  and 
althea  bushes  :  it  opened  to  the  ground, 
and  a  sandy  little  footpath  ran  directly 
to  the  river,  where  her  boat  was  moored. 
Usually,  while  the  captain  took  his  after- 
dinner  nap,  she  rowed  along  the  shore, 
and  Neckart,  when  he  was  there,  would 
sit  in  the  stern  reading  or  scribbling  his 
next  leader,  but  oftener  leaning  back, 
his  hands  clasped  behind  his  head,  listen 
ing  with  half-closed  eyes  to  her  chatter. 
It  is  significant  to  note  the  occasion 
on  which  a  silent  woman  has  a  flux  de 
bouche.  The  necessity  for  talking  was 
upon  Jane  at  this  moment.  There  were 
twenty  things  which  she  must  tell  Mr. 
Neckart  to-night — how  the  shoemaker 
Twiss,  who  used  to  live — or  starve — in  the 


alley  back  of  their  garden,  was  here  as 
head-gardener;  and  how  capitally  that 
consumptive  sempstress,  Nichols,  man 
aged  the  dairy  and  was  growing  quite 
fat  at  the  work ;  and  how  that  boy  in  the 
stable,  whom  Neckart  had  brought  from 
the  printing-office,  where  he  was  going 
headlong  to  the  devil,  had  really  turned 
out  the  best  of  fellows.  The  truth  was, 
that  there  were  very  few  people  who  had 
been  kind  to  Jane  or  the  captain  in  the 
days  when  they  were  all  hungry  together 
whom  Neckart  had  not  met  at  the  farm, 
either  as  visitors  or  settled  in  fat  sine 
cures  of  office.  He  had  arranged  the 
business  part  of  their  removal,  indeed, 
in  many  cases.  But  he  was  in  no  mood 
for  consultation  to-night — answered  brief 
ly  when  she  spoke  to  him  :  his  face,  hard 
and  inflexible,  was  turned  toward  the 
river.  "His  mind  is  filled  with  some 
matter  of  state — that  Navy  appropriation 
bill,  I  suppose,"  she  thought,  looking  at 
him  deferentially.  Her  little  affairs  and 
thoughts  fell  back  on  her  as  if  they  had 
struck  against  iron. 

She  never  wanted  sympathy  or  advice 
from  others  :  sometimes  there  were  whole 
days  in  which,  her  father  being  gone,  she 
scarcely  spoke  a  word.  But  now,  at  the 
necessity  for  silence,  her  heart  sunk  with 
a  miserable  emptiness,  her  throat  choked, 
hot  wretched  tears  came  up  into  her  eyes. 
She  had  thought  all  the  week  of  this  day, 
and  she  had  kept  the  best  of  all  she  had 
to  tell  until  this  evening.  She  thought, 
of  course,  they  would  go  out  in  the  boat, 
and  now  his  mind  was  full  of  the  Navy 
appropriation  bill ! 

She  pulled  the  white  threads  from  the 
ragged  cactus  leaves  beside  her,  looking 
at  him  sometimes  from  under  her  lashes. 
"I  think  I  will  go  out  on  the  river,"  she 
said  timidly. 

"  Shall  I  push  out  the  boat  ?  The  wa 
ter  will  drift  you  without  rowing,"  going 
promptly  before  her  down  the  path.  He 
took  up  the  little  anchor,  wiped  the  seat 
of  the  bateau  with  the  sponge,  and  held 
out  his  hand  to  help  her  in.  She  seated 
herself  and  took  the  oars.  Surely  he 
was  coming  ?  He  never  had  allowed 
her  to  go  alone.  No :  he  waited  with 
one  hand  on  the  stern,  and  then  pushed 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


her  off,  taking  off  his  hat  as  the  boat 
darted  out  into  the  current  and  her  oars 
struck  the  water. 

It  was  the  bill :  no  doubt  it  was  the 
bill !  She  knew  he  had  been  sent  for  to 
Washington  on  business  concerning  it. 
Of  course  he  was  a  statesman,  and  it 
was  quite  right  that  the  government  and 
the  country  should  have  the  benefit  of 
his  best  thoughts.  But  what  if  this  bill' 
and  other  bills  should  always  fill  his 
mind,  and  leave  no  room  there  for — for 
the  poor  little  affairs  of  his  friends  ? 
"What  would  father  do  then?" 

The  oars  rested  motionless  in  the  row 
locks.  Her  eyes  were  dry,  but  there  was 
a  breathless  stricture  on  her  breast,  as 
though  an  iron  hand  had  clenched  her 
and  for  the  moment  crushed  the  life 
back. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

MR.  NECKART,  standing  back  in  the 
shadow  of  the  scrubby  althea  -  bushes, 
his  hands  clasped  behind  him  and  his 
eyes  following  the  skiff  as  it  drifted  down 
the  river  in  the  twilight,  compelled  him 
self  to  argue  the  matter  out  according  to 
the  rulings  of  common  sense,  just  as  he 
would  the  appropriation  bill. 

He  had  been  coming  too  close  of  late 
to  this  little  girl  in  a  brotherly  way  —  of 
course  in  a  brotherly  way.  He  must 
stand  farther  off.  She  must  marry.  He 
had  always  looked  forward  to  her  marry 
ing,  and  the  time,  in  all  probability,  had 
come  now.  Van  Ness  was  a  manly, 
strong  fellow :  her  father  would  urge  it, 
and  Jane  would  soon  be  won.  For  Neck- 
art,  with  the  majority  of  men,  regarded 
amiability  and  high-colored,  beefy  good 
looks  in  his  own  sex  as  the  irresistible 
attractions  in  a  woman's  eyes. 

"They  both  have  youth  and  personal 
attractions  and  culture  —  everything  to 
make  a  marriage  suitable.  I  can  find 
no  objection  to  it,"  proceeded  his  most 
reasonable  meditation. 

"  But  I  can  never  see  it !" 

He  had  not  spoken,  but  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  he  had  cried  out.  Then  he 
laughed  to  think  what  an  egregious  ass 


he  was.  What  was  this  yellow-haired 
girl  in  the  boat  to  him  more  than  any 
other  of  the  millions  of  women  with  whom 
the  world  was  filled  ?  Nothing.  They 
all  were  nothing  to  him. 

He  turned  his  back  on  the  river  and 
struck  into  one  of  the  dusky  alleys  of  the 
garden,  pacing  up  and  down  below  the 
old  plum  trees.  He  whistled  to  himself, 
and  ran  his  hand  through  his  shaggy 
hair  as  if  to  be  rid  of  some  cobwebs  in 
his  brain.  As  he  brushed  against  the 
branches  a  bird  fluttered  out  of  its  nest 
and  chirped  angrily.  Why,  women  and 
their  love  and  their  homes  could  no  more 
come  into  his  life  than  that  silly  robin  or 
her  brood !  Two  years  ago  this  inex 
orable  necessity  did  not  even  give  him  a 
moment's  chagrin.  The  newspaper,  his 
army  of  followers,  the  policy  of  the  coun 
try, — these  made  life  big  and  full  enough. 
If  he  wanted  little  selfish  pleasures,  there 
was  his  arm  -  chair  and  open  fire,  his 
shelf  of  old  books,  or  a  dinner  at  Del- 
monico's  with  some  clever  fellow,  or  a 
dash  to  Europe,  or  across  the  continent, 
to  pry  into  the  background  against  which 
other  clever  fellows,  whether  white  or  yel 
low  or  black,  lived  and  worked.  He 
would  go  back  to  the  office  to-night ;  he 
could  hear  the  engine  puffing  at  the 
station  now,  making  ready  for  the  next 
train  ;  he  could  finish  the  evening  with 
his  old  friends,  the  books  ;  he  could  order 
a  dinner  to  -  morrow  that  would  satisfy 
even  his  palate, — and  he  used  to  be  an 
epicure.  He  ought  to  go.  He  would  go. 

He  walked  up  the  open  path  leading 
to  the  house.  Then  he  stopped,  turned 
and  struck  directly  through  the  trees 
and  bushes  to  the  river-side.  The  boat 
was  at  some  distance  :  he  called  once  or 
twice  for  her  to  come  and  take  him  on 
board  before  she  heard  him.  His  voice 
sounded  hoarse  and  strange  to  himself: 
he  did  not  know  himself  in  what  he  did. 
As  for  the  world,  there  was  nothing  in  it 
but  that  boat  yonder  which  shot  through 
the  water,  and  the  woman  with  eager 
face  rowing  swiftly  toward  him. 

There  was  not  a  Wall-street  banker  or 
a  politician  among  Neckart's  confreres 
who  would  not  have  looked  upon  him  as 
insane  for  the  moment.  This  dull  wisp 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


43 


of  a  woman  to  blot  out  all  business,  pow 
er,  place,  from  his  life  ?  But,  after  all, 
there  is  no  insanity  so  practical  or  long- 
lived.  Why  does  A  bull  and  bear  the 
market,  or  B  sell  himself  and  his  party, 
but  for  the  sake  of  some  ugly,  faded  wo 
man  and  the  commonplace  children  she 
has  borne  him  ?  They  are  not  thought 
worth  notice  by  anybody  but  himself, 
but  he  ignores  honesty,  death,  God  him 
self,  for  them  his  life  long.  A  plodding, 
shrewd  fellow  too,  probably  not  a  whit 
heroic. 

Neckart  was  tramping  along  the  com 
mon  road  which  all  of  us  know,  but  it  seem 
ed  to  him  that  he  was  breaking  ground 
in  a  new  world  full  of  misty  splendors 
and  untried  action.  When  he  called  to 
her  his  breath  failed  him,  as  it  used  to 
do  when  he  was  a  boy  wild  with  excite 
ment.  The  sand  under  his  feet,  the 
brambles  on  the  bank,  the  overarching 
sky,  were  not  the  same  they  were  an 
hour  ago.  When  the  boat  darted  up  to 
the  shore,  rocking  as  she  held  it  fast  with 
the  oar,  it  seemed  strange  to  him  that  she 
should  speak  in  her  ordinary  tone.  Did 
she  not  know  ? 

She  stood  up  in  the  bow  steadying  the 
skiff  as  he  sprang  into  it.  His  hand 
touched  her  fingers  for  an  instant,  and 
she  noticed  that  it  shrank  from  hers. 

"  Did  my  father  call  me  ?" 

"  No  :  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  alone." 

She  pushed  from  shore  and  dipped  her 
oars  :  in  a  moment  they  were  out  in  the 
current.  It  was  a  rippling  belt  of  steely 
blue,  the  banks  making  indistinguish 
able  ramparts  of  shadow  on  either  side. 
Overhead  was  the  soft  starless  twilight 
of  June,  through  which  a  nighthawk 
flapped  heavily  and  vanished.  When 
it  was  gone  they  were  alone.  Could  she 
not  understand  that  they  were  alone  ? 
In  this  wide  dark  world  that  there  were 
only  they  two,  a  man  and  a  woman  ? 

He  could  not  distinguish  her  face,  and 
her  figure  was  but  a  light  dark  outline 
like  a  silhouette  against  the  air.  But  the 
power  of  her  womanhood  was  upon  him, 
a  something  which  Neckart  had  never 
felt  before — a  terrible,  pure  passion. 

"Give  me  the  oars,"  he  said.  "Let 
me  help  you,"  reaching  forward  to  take 


them.  His  hand  rested  on  hers  acci 
dentally  :  he  did  not  remove  it.  Now  did 
she  understand  ?  His  mouth  was  closed. 
It  seemed  to  him  as  if  words  were  poor 
to  say  what  was  in  his  blood,  in  his  soul, 
in  the  water,  the  air,  the  very  ground. 

She  was  startled,  and  turned  to  him 
wondering.  The  moon,  rising  higher, 
showed  him  the  childish,  sensitive  mouth, 
the  dark  eyes  heavy  with  tears,  for  she 
had  been  crying.  What  was  that  which 
gleamed  through  them,  half  answering 
him,  frightened  at  itself?  It  seemed  to 
him  in  this  brief  pause  that  they  had 
been  waiting  all  their  lives  for  this  word 
— he  to  speak  and  she  to  hear. 

"Jane!"  He  took  her  hand  in  both 
of  his  and  held  it  close,  and  then  he 
threw  it  from  him,  drawing  back:  "My 
God  !  I  had  forgotten." 

"Forgotten?"  She  closed  her  eyes 
once  or  twice,  bewildered,  as  if  sudden 
ly  wakened  from  sleep.  "You  are  in 
trouble,"  she  said  anxiously.  "  Can  I 
help  you  ?" 

The  question  brought  him  to  sober 
reason  sharply  enough.  It  was  precise 
ly  the  frank,  tender  tone  which  she 
would  use  to  her  father;  and  the  truth 
was,  that  the  girl  to  herself  did  not  yet 
distinguish  between  her  father  and  this 
friend.  A  moment  before  a  strange 
emotion  had  touched  her.  But  it  had 
passed  like  a  warm  gust  of  summer. 
There  was  not  a  seven-year  old  child  in 
the  city  yonder  who  did  not  know  more 
about  love  than  Jane.  She  had  never 
heard  servants  or  schoolmates  chatter 
about  it ;  novels  had  bored  her ;  the  cap 
tain,  whatever  he  had  left  undone,  had 
kept  the  air  pure  and  cold  about  her  as 
for  a  very  nun. 

"What  is  this  trouble,  Mr.  Neckart? 
You  have  been  ill  for  months,  I  know. 
Can  I —  ?  Or  perhaps  father — " 

She  leaned  forward,  the  oars  suspend 
ed  in  her  hands,  her  lips  apart,  attentive 
and  eager. 

He  leaned  over  the  edge  of  the  skiff 
and  wet  his  forehead  and  eyes,  forcing 
a  careless  laugh:  "One  moment,  Miss 
Swendon,  and  I  will  explain  to  you," 
adding  presently,  precisely  in  the  man 
ner  with  which  he  would  have  discussed 


44 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


the  weather,  "We  men  each  have  our 
skeleton  to  hide,  according  to  popular 
belief,  and  mine  is  no  worse  than  the 
rest.  It  is  the  most  practical  of  facts. 
Only  I  am  apt  to  forget  it,  and  then, 
when  it  meets  me  unawares,  it  is  as  grim 
as  death." 

She  nodded,  watching  him  intently  as 
if  he  were  physically  ill :  she  would  not 
let  the  oars  strike  on  the  water,  lest  the 
noise  might  jar  on  him.  All  kinds  of 
wild  plans  for  helping  him  filled  her 
brain.  If  the  trouble  were  anything 
which  money  could  help,  there  was 
plenty  of  that,  thank  God !  If  it  was 
political  difficulty  —  bills  maybe  —  she 
could  not  even  understand  it.  If  God 
had  only  not  made  her  so  stupid !  the 
humble  tears  rising  slowly  to  her  eyes. 

Mr.  Neckart  did  not  see  them.  He 
was  careful  not  to  look  at  her  as  he 
spoke,  and  hurried  on  with  his  explana 
tion,  as  if  it  were  business  of  small  im 
portance.  But  she  was  not  deceived  by 
that.  "  I  never  have  talked  of  this  mat 
ter,  and  least  of  all  should  I  have  told  it 
to  you.  I  can  bear  the  trouble  when  it 
comes  without  difficulty.  The  most  or 
dinary  men  meet  disaster  coolly  which 
they  know  is  inevitable.  Commonplace 
fellows  who  are  born  with  scrofula  or 
consumption  march  along  with  them  to 
early  death  cheerfully.  They  make  no 
tragedy  out  of  it.  There  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  complain  of  my  lifelong 
companion."  His  tone  was  harder  than 
he  had  ever  used  in  speaking  to  Jane 
before. 

"  I  have  never  told  you  of  my  mother  ?" 

"No,"  eagerly,  hastening  to  spare  him 
pain.  "But  I  have  heard  of  her  from 
Gornelia  Fleming,  who  was  your  neigh 
bor  in  Delaware.  I  know  all  that  she 
suffered.  You  need  not  tell  me." 

"  She  was  the  last  of  the  Davidge  fam 
ily.  There  was  not  one  of  them  for  gen 
erations  who  had  not  inherited  disease 
of  the  brain.  They  were  either  epilep 
tics  from  youth,  or  became,  as  she  did, 
incurably  insane.  The  disease  invari 
ably  manifested  itself  in  that  way  after 
middle  age,  and  from  that  time  they 
were  helpless  burdens  to  their  children. 
Yet  there  was  not  a  Davidge  who  re 


frained  from  marriage,  so  entailing  the 
curse  on  another  generation.  It  would 
have  been  more  righteous  to  have  put  a 
pistol  to  their  heads  and  have  blown  out 
their  brains." 

His  manner  was  quiet  and  cold.  Jane 
made  no  answer. 

"  Naturally,  I  have  studied  the  pathol 
ogy  of  insanity  closely.  I  know  that  I 
have  inherited  the  disease.  The  symp 
toms  within  the  last  six  months  are  un 
mistakable.  I  know  that  in  five  or  ten 
years  at  the  outside  I  shall  be  of  no  more 
use  in  the  world  than  any  other  mindless 
animal.  But  I  will  have  no  woman,  nor 
child,  suffer  for  me." 

When  he  ceased  to  speak  the  silence 
and  the  night  fell  oppressively  on  them. 
The  boat  had  drifted  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  bank  and  grounded.  The  moonlight 
showed  her  to  him  sitting  in  the  bow  of 
the  boat  facing  him,  her  hands  clasped 
on  her  knees.  She  was  so  near  that  if 
he  but  opened  his  arms  he  could  take 
her  to  his  breast.  Yet  he  knew  that  she 
was  separated  from  him  now  as  though 
death  itself  lay  between. 

"  I  have  known  this  necessity  which 
lay  upon  me  for  years,  Miss  Swendon," 
he  said  quietly,  but  leaning  forward  to 
watch  her  immovable  face.  "  It  is  my 
duty  to  isolate  myself  as  other  men  need 
not  do.  The  more  dear"  —  his  voice 
failed  suddenly,  but  he  recovered  him 
self  in  a  moment  and  went  on  —  "the 
more  dear  a  woman  is  to  me,  the  more 
I  must  shut  her  out  of  my  sight.  I  can 
never  try  to  win  her  nor  marry  her." 

Was  the  girl  stone  ?  Had  she  not  even 
common  human  sympathy  for  him  ? 

"You  understand  why  I  do  this?" 

"Yes,  I  understand." 

"And  you  think  I  am  right?" 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  her  usual 
blunt  directness:  "You  are  altogether 
right.  An  honest  man  could  not  do 
otherwise."  Her  chin  fell  on  her  breast 
again.  Not  a  moan,  not  a  breath  of  re 
gret,  at  the  blow  which  struck  them  apart. 
Weaker  women  would  have  cried  a  lit 
tle  at  parting  from  a  dog  who  had  been 
sometimes  a  companion.  This  cool- 
blooded  Swede  gave  her  verdict  on  the 
right  and  wrong  of  the  matter  as  though 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


45 


it  had  been  a  sale  of  goods,  and  there 
was  the  end  of  it!  All  the  long-latent 
passion  in  Neckart's  nature  revolted  and 
flamed  into  life.  He  moved  restlessly, 
watching  her  sit  there  stony  and  im 
movable.  He  would  have  flung  away 
life,  as  men  used  to  do  against  the  dumb 
Sphinx,  to  tear  from  her  some  word  of 
pity  or  life. 

The  boat  rocked  in  the  shallow  water. 
She  rose  to  leave  it.  Neckart  mechan 
ically  held  out  his  hand  to  help  her  jump 
ashore.  She  held  it  tightly,  and  when  she 
stood  beside  him  on  the  grass  took  it  in 
both  her  own:  "No.  You  ought  never 
to  marry.  You  ought'  to  hold  yourself 
apart  from  the  world.  These  strange 
people  would  only  irritate  and  wear  you 
out.  Now  you  can  give  yourself  entire 
ly  to  us.  We  are  your  nearest  friends. 
You  shall  give  up  the  paper  and  politics : 
it  is  the  work  and  anxiety  that  are  telling 
on  your  brain.  You  shall  live  here  with 
father,  in  the  quiet  and  country  air.  I 
will  take  care  of  you  both."  She  stroked 
his  hand  as  a  mother  might  that  of  her 
dying  child,  trying  to  believe  that  it  was 
not  growing  cold.  For  a  year  the  girl 
had  fought  death  back  from  her  father 
step  by  step.  Now,  her  one  friend,  who 
with  the  old  man  filled  all  the  world  for 
her,  was  to  be  taken  from  her. 

He  seated  her  on  a  fallen  log  and  push 
ed  back  the  hair  from  her  clammy  fore 
head  :  "  Child  !  child !  you  do  not  un 
derstand  !  All  I  have  told  you  has  gone 
for  nothing !" 

"  I  do  understand.  I  can  cure  you 
both.  Rest  and  the  air —  I  am  dull, 
but  you  don't  know  how  good  a  nurse  I 
can  be  for  my  own  people,"  with  a  piti 
ful  laugh. 

He  did  not  speak.  The  soft  golden 
hair  lay  in  his  hand,  warm  and  alive. 
He  looked  down  at  her.  He  could  soon 
turn  this  childish  affection  into  love  :  he 
could  wrench  her  soul  into  his  own.  Why 
should  he  not  take  what  God  had  set  be 
fore  him  ?  All  the  other  men  of  his  race 
had  done  it. 

One  moment  he  stood  irresolute.  Then 
the  hair  dropped  from  his  hand.  "Jane," 
he  said,  as  if  reasoning  with  a  child, 
"when  I  remember  my  mother  first  she 


was  a  pretty,  tender  little  woman,  with 
hardly  a  thought  outside  of  her  boy. 
For  years  before  she  died  I  was  forced 
to  fasten  her  as  one  does  a  wild  beast, 
that  she  might  not  kill  me.  Do  you 
understand  what  that  was  to  me  ?  Do 
you  think  I  can  bring  the  misery  I  knew 
in  those  years  to  any  woman  ?  My  wife 
shall  never  have  it  to  bear." 

"  But  you  can  have  no  wife !"  she 
cried.  "You  said  you  dared  not  marry  ! 
/  can  bear  the  misery.  You  will  come 
to  us — us.  Those  women  in  Washing 
ton  of  whom  you  tell  me — how  could 
they  know  what  you  need  ?  I  have  no 
body  but  you  and  father." 

She  felt  herself  so  young  and  strong ! 
Death,  a  most  horrible  and  certain  death, 
was  creeping  upon  him.  In  her  agony 
of  pity  she  held  his  hand  to  her  wet, 
burning  cheeks. 

"Jane,  you  drive  me  mad!"  stooping 
over  her  trembling.  "  It  is  you — you  that 
I  dare  not  marry !" 

She  stood  erect:  "/marry  you?  I 
never  thought  of  that,"  simply. 

"  You  never  thought  of  it  ?"  with  a 
queer  uncertain  laugh.  "  You  never 
thought  that  I  loved  you  ?" 

"That  you  loved  me,  Mr.  Neckart? 
Me  ?"  The  blue  innocent  eyes  that  had 
been  fixed  on  his  suddenly  filled  with 
light ;  she  dropped  her  face  into  her 
hands  ;  'her  whole  body  burned  with 
blushes,  and  she  turned  away. 

Neckart  slowly  followed  her.  Jane's 
thoughts  were  always  transparent  as 
crystal :  he  had  read  in  that  one  brief 
glance  all  the  delight,  the  tender  passion, 
whose  first  impulse  was  to  escape  from 
him. 

"  I  have  been  a  damned  scoundrel !" 
he  said  to  himself:  "I  have  ruined  her 
life !" 

He  was  now  thoroughly  awake  to  what 
he  had  done — saw  it  as  any  other  prac 
tical,  honorable  man  would  do,  unbiased 
by  his  passion  or  his  pity  for  himself.  He 
walked  silently  beside  her  as  she  went 
up  the  steep  path  to  the  house. 

As  for  Jane,  she  did  not  know  that 
he  was  silent:  she  would  scarcely  have 
heard  if  he  had  spoken  to  her.  She  did 
not  know  what  this  was  that  had  come 


A   LAW  UNTO  IfEKSELF. 


to  her,  that  had  lifted  her  whole  life  up 
ward  as  by  a  touch.  She  could  not  look 
at  him.  If  she  could  only  reach  her  fa 
ther  and  hide  from  him,  that  he  might 
never  find  her — never !  She  remember 
ed  how  a  minute  ago  she  had  held  his 
hand  to  her  face,  and  the  hot  flood  of 
shame  covered  every  other  thought :  the 
next  she  glanced  shyly  at  him  with  a 
sweet  pride ; — he  loved  her,  he  would 
understand  !  The  terrible  story  he  had 
told  her  had  passed  out  of  her  mind  like 
a  breath  of  smoke  in  sunshine.  He  loved 
her :  she  could  keep  him  out  of  all  dan 
ger.  Even  if  she  had  remembered  that 
she  could  never  be  his  wife,  it  would 
not  have  troubled  her.  He  loved  her ! 
She  thought  no  more  of  marriage  than 
the  bird  in  its  first  song  of  dawn  thinks 
of  the  barred  lines  and  visible  notes  to 
which  its  music  might  somewhere  be 
written  down. 

Neckart  followed  her  up  the  steps  and 
into  the  wide  hall,  carrying  his  hat  be 
hind  him  in  his  hand.  The  damp  air 
wet  his  hair,  and  it  hung  lankly  back 
from  his  haggard  face.  He  felt  physi 
cally  ill.  He  had  acted  like  a  brute,  a 


coward  !  This  was  the  end  of  his  stern 
resolve,  his  lifelong  self-denial ! 

A  lamp  burned  at  the  foot  of  the  wide 
staircase.  He  paused  beside  it :  she  had 
gone  up  a  step  or  two,  and  halted,  her 
hand  on  the  rail,  looking  down.  "Good 
night  !"  she  said  shyly. 

The  light  shone  full  on  the  pink  glow 
in  her  cheeks,  the  loose  hair  glistening 
like  a  golden  mist,  the  half-frightened, 
half-triumphant  gleam  shot  down  from 
the  blue  eyes. 

He  did  not  answer  her. 

The  delicate  virgin  bloom  of  this  love 
which  he  had  coveted  so  madly  an  hour 
ago  scarcely  stirred  his  heart  now  with 
pleasure.  A  man  cannot  live  all  the 
time  on  the  heights  of  emotion  or  of  re 
ligion  ;  the  air  is  too  rarefied  up  there  for 
healthy  lungs ;  he  comes  down  punctu 
ally  to  the  ordinary  levels  of  his  saner 
self;  and  Neckart,  on  his  ordinary  level, 
was  an  exceedingly  practical,  honest  man. 
He  knew  that  he  had  brought  irreparable 
injury  to  this  girl,  and  that  it  was  his  duty 
now  to  make  amends  as  best  he  could. 


CHAPTER    X. 

MISS  FLEMING  arrived  that  even 
ing  while  Jane  was  on  the  water. 
She  was  in  the  habit  of  coming  out  to  the 
Hemlock  Farm  for  a  day's  holiday,  and 
went  directly  to  her  own  room  as  though 
she  were  at  home.  When  she  stepped 
presently  out  on  the  porch,  where  the 
gentlemen  had  gone  to  smoke,  a  soft 
black  silk  showing  every  line  of  her  sup 
ple  figure,  glimpses  of  the  rounded  arms 
revealed  with  every  movement  of  the 
loose  sleeves,  one  or  two  thick  green 
leaves  in  her  light  hair  —  ugly,  quiet, 
friendly — they  all  felt  more  at  home  than 
they  had  done  before.  There  was  a 
pitcher  of  punch  by  the  captain's  elbow  : 
she  tasted  it,  threw  in  a  dash  of  liquor, 
poured  him  out  a  glass  and  sat  down 
beside  him,  and  he  felt  that  a  gap  was 
comfortably  filled. 

"  You  have  turned  your  back  on  Phil 
adelphia,  they  tell  me,  Miss  Fleming," 
complained  Judge  Rhodes.  "  New  York 
sucks  in  all  the  young  blood  of  the  coun 
try — the  talent  and  energy." 

"Oh,  I  came  simply  to  sell  my  wares. 
New  York  is  my  market,  but  Philadel 
phia  will  always  be  home  to  me,"  in  her 
peculiar  pathetic  voice.  "  I  left  good 
friends  there,"  with  one  of  her  bewil 
dering  glances  straight  into  the  judge's 
beady  eyes,  at  which  his  flabby  face  was 
suffused  with  heat. 

"You  do  not  forget  your  friends,  that's 
certain,"  he  said,  lowering  his  voice. 
"  That  was  a  delicate  compliment,  send 
ing  my  portrait  back  to  the  Exhibition. 
I  felt  it  very  much,  I  assure  you." 

Cornelia  bowed  silently.  Neither  she 
nor  the  judge  said  anything  about  the 
round -numbered  cheque  which  he  had 
sent  her  for  it.  In  the  moonlight  they 
preferred  to  let  the  affair  stand  on  a 
sentimental  basis. 

Mr.  Van  Ness  meanwhile  eyed  Miss 
Fleming's  pose  and  rounded  figure  with 
a  watery  gleam  of  complacency. 

"An  exceptional  woman,"  was  his  ver 


dict.  He  turned  the  conversation  to  art, 
and  asked  innumerable  questions  with 
a  profound  humility.  Cornelia  replied 
eagerly,  until  the  fact  crept  out  from  the 
judge  that  there  was  not  an  aesthetic 
dogma  nor  a  gallery  in  the  world  with 
which  he  was  not  familiar.  Then  to 
pottery,  in  which  field  his  modesty  was 
as  profound,  until  the  judge  pushed  him, 
as  it  were,  to  a  corner,  when  he  acknow 
ledged  himself  the  possessor  of  a-  few 
"  nice  bits." 

"  I  have  some  old  Etruscan  pieces 
which  I  should  like  you  to  see,  Miss 
Fleming,"  with  his  mild,  deprecating 
cough,  "and  a  bit  of  Capo  di  Monte, 
and  the  only  real  specimen  of  Henri 
Deux  in  the  country." 

"  I  must  see  them,"  emphatically. 
"Where  are  your  cabinets?" 

"Oh,  nowhere,"  with  a  shrug.  "My 
poor  little  specimens  have  never  been 
unpacked  since  I  returned  to  this  country. 
They  are  boxed  up  in  a  friend's  cellar." 

"God  bless  me,  Cornelia!"  cried  the 
captain  in  a  muffled  tone,  "how  could 
Mr.  Van  Ness  spend  his  time  koo-tooing 
to  cracked  pots  ?  He  has,  as  I  may  say, 
the  future  of  Pennsylvania  in  his  hand. 
When  I  think  what  he  is  doing  for  the 
friendless  children — thousands  of 'em — " 
The  punch  had  heated  the  captain's  zeal 
to  the  point  where  words  failed  him. 

After  that  the  friendless  children  swept 
lighter  subjects  out  of  sight.  Mr.  Van 
Ness,  whose  humility  in  this  light  rose  to 
saintly  heights,  had  all  the  statistics  of 
the  Bureaux  of  Charity  at  his  tongue's 
end.  He  had  studied  the  Dangerous 
Classes  in  every  obscure  corner  of  the 
world.  He  could  give  you  the  statiis 
quo  of  any  given  tribe  in  India  just  as 
easily  as  the  time-table  on  the  new  rail 
way  in  Egypt.  No  wonder  that  he  could 
tell  you  in  a  breath  the  percentage  of 
orphans,  deserted  minors,  children  of 
vicious  parents,  in  his  own  State,  and 
the  amount  per  capita  required  to  civil 
ize  and  Christianize  them.  As  he  talked 

47 


48 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


of  this  matter  his  eyes  became  suffused 
with  tears.  The  great  Home  for  these 
helpless  wards  of  the  State  he  described 
at  length,  from  its  situation  on  a  high 
table-land  of  the  Alleghanies  and  the 
dimensions  of  the  immense  buildings 
down  to  the  employments  of  the  chil 
dren  and  'the  capacity  of  the  laundry — 
a  perfect  Arcadia  with  all  the  modern 
improvements,  where  Crime  was  to  be 
transformed  wholesale  into  Virtue. 

"Where  is  this  institution?"  asked 
Miss  Fleming.  "  It  is  strange  I  never 
heard  of  it." 

"Oh,  it  is  not  built  as  yet:  we  have 
not  raised  the  funds,"  Mr.  Van  Ness  re 
plied  with  a  smothered  sigh. 

The  judge  patted  one  foot  and  looked 
at  him  compassionately.  It  was  a  dev 
ilishly  queer  ambition  to  be  the  savior 
of  those  dirty  little  wretches  in  the  back 
alleys.  But  if  a  man  had  given  himself 
up,  body  and  soul,  to  such  a  pursuit,  it 
was  hard  measure  that  he  must  be 
thwarted  in  it. 

Miss  Fleming  also  bent  soft  sympa 
thetic  eyes  on  her  new  friend.  The 
Home  was  not  built,  eh  ?  Not  a  brick 
laid  ?  She  wondered  whether  that  box 
with  the  priceless  treasures  existed  in  his 
friend's  cellar  or  in  his  brain :  she  won 
dered  whether  he  had  not  seen  those  pic 
tures  of  the  old  masters  in  photographs, 
or  whether  he  had  travelled  in  Japan  and 
the  obscure  corners  of  the  earth  in  the  flesh 
or  in  books.  There  was  more  than  the 
wonted  necessity  upon  her  to  establish 
sympathetic  relations  with  this  new  man  : 
she  had  never  seen  a  finer  presence  :  the 
beard  and  brow  quite  lifted  his  mascu 
linity  into  aesthetic  regions ;  she  caught 
glimpses,  too,  of  an  unfamiliar  mongrel 
species  of  intellect  with  which  she  would 
relish  Platonic  relations.  Yet  with  this 
glow  upon  her  she  regarded  the  reform 
er's  noble  face  and  benignant  blond  beard 
doubtfully,  thinking  how  she  used  to  stick 
pins  in  brilliant  bubbles  when  she  was 
a  child,  and  nothing  would  be  left  but  a 
patch  of  dirty  water. 

"Jane  is  out  on  the  river,  as  usual?" 
she  asked  presently. 

"Yes,"  said  her  father:  "Mr.  Neckart 
is  with  her.  Neither  of  them  will  ever 


stay  under  a  roof  if  they  can  help  it. 
They  ought  to  have  a  dash  of  Indian 
blood  in  their  veins  to  account  for  such 
vagabondizing." 

"Is  Bruce  Neckart  here?"  with  a 
change  in  her  tone  which  made  the  cap 
tain  look  up  at  her  involuntarily. 

"Yes." 

"  I  thought  he  was  in  Washington  :  I 
did  not  expect  to  meet  him." 

The  judge  puffed  uneasily  at  his  cigar. 
He  was  a  family  man,  with  a  stout  wife 
and  married  son.  He  did  not  meet  Miss 
Fleming  once  a  year,  but  he  felt  a  vague 
jealousy  of  Neckart. 

"  By  the  way,  you  must  be  old  ac 
quaintances  ?"  he  said  abruptly.  "Both 
from  Delaware  ?  Kent  county  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  with  a  shrill  womanish  laugh, 
very  different  from  her  usual  sweet  boy 
ish  ha! 'ha!  "Many's  the  day  we  rowed 
on  the  bay  or  dredged  for  oysters  to 
gether,  dirty  and  ragged  and  happy. 
There  is  not  very  much  difference  in 
our  ages,"  seeing  his  look  of  surprise. 
"I  look  younger  than  I  am,  and  Bruce 
has  grown  old  fast.  At  least,  so  I  hear. 
I  have  not  seen  him  for  years." 

She  was  silent  after  that,  and  preoccu 
pied  as  her  admirers  had  never  seen  her, 
and  presently,  hearing  Jane's  and  Neck- 
art's  steps  on  the  path,  she  rose  hastily 
and  bade  them  good-night.  They  each 
shook  hands  with  her,  that  being  one  of 
the  sacred  rites  in  the  Platonic  friendships 
so  much  in  vogue  now-a-days  among  clev 
er  men  and  women.  Mr.  Van  Ness  offer 
ed  his  hand  last,  and  Cornelia  smiled  cor 
dially  as  she  took  it.  But  it  was  clammy 
and  soft.  She  rubbed  her  fingers  with 
a  shudder  of  disgust  as  she  hurried  up 
to  her  own  room.  There  she  walked 
straight  to  her  glass  and  turned  up  the 
lamp  beside  it,  looking  long  and  fixedly 
at  her  face.  She  knew  with  exactness 
the  extent  of  its  ugliness  and  its  power. 

"  It  is  too  late  now  even  if  it  ever  could 
have  been,"  she  said  quietly,  and  put  out 
the  light.  Then  she  went  to  the  window. 
Mr.  Neckart  had  left  Jane  inside,  and, 
not  joining  the  other  men,  turned  back 
to  the  garden.  She  saw  the  bulky  dark 
figure  as  it  passed  under  her  window. 

She  stretched  out  her  hands  as  if  for 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


49 


a  caress,  with  the  palms  pressed  close. 
"Oh,  Bruce  !"  she  said  under  her  breath. 
"Bruce !" 

After  he  had  passed  out  of  sight  she 
stood  thinking  over  all  the  men  who  had 
made  a  comrade  of  her  since  she  saw 
him  last  —  how  they  had  handled  her 
fingers  and  looked  into  her  eyes ;  how 
her  every  thought  and  fancy  had  grown 
common  and  unclean  through  much 
usage ;  how  she  had  dragged  out  what 
ever  maidenly  feeling  she  had  in  the  old 
times,  and  made  capital  of  it  to  bring 
these  companions  to  her  who  were  nei 
ther  lovers  nor  friends. 

"When  I  could  not  have  the  food 
which  I  wanted,  I  took  the  husks  which 
the  swine  did  eat,"  she  said,  leaving  the 
window,  with  a  short  laugh.  "  Well,  I 
could  not  die  of  starvation." 


CHAPTER   XI. 

WHEN  Jane  woke  the  next  morning  a 
bluebird  was  singing  outside  of  the  win 
dow  :  she  tried  to  mimic  him  before  she 
was  out  of  bed,  and  sang  scraps  of  songs 
to  herself  as  she  dressed.  The  captain 
heard  her  in  his  room  below,  but  pretend 
ed  to  be  asleep  when  she  came  down  as 
usual  to  lay  out  his  clothes,  for,  although 
she  insisted  that  her  father  should  have 
Dave  as  a  valet,  she  left  him  but  little  to 
do. 

Watching  her  from  under  the  covers, 
the  captain  saw  that  she  had  left  off  the 
black  snood  and  tied  her  hair  with  a 
band  of  rose-colored  ribbon.  Her  lips 
were  ruddy  and  her  eyes  alight :  once  or 
twice  she  laughed  to  herself. 

"  What  high  day  or  holiday  is  it,  Jane  ?" 

"  Oh,  every  day  is  a  high  day  now !" 
running  to  kiss  him.  "  I  was  just  think 
ing  how  comfortable  money  is,  and  how 
glad  I  am  that  we  have  it,"  glancing 
about  delighted  at  his  luxurious  toilet 
appointments  before  the  low  wood-fire. 
Then  she  spread  out  his  dressing-gown 
and  velvet  smoking-cap,  and  eyed  with 
her  head  on  one  side  the  fine  shirt  and 
its  costly  studs. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  rag-carpet  in 
your  room  which  we  thought  such  a  tri- 
4 


umph  ?  and  the  old  tin  shaving-cup  ? 
Now,  my  lord,  look  out  upon  your  estate !" 
opening  the  window.  "  Your  musicians 
have  come  to  waken  you,  and  your  ser 
vitors  stand  without,"  as  Buff  tapped  at 
the  door  with  hot  water. 

"  He  is  as  comfortable  as  a  baby  wrap 
ped  in  lamb's  wool,"  she  thought  as  she 
ran  down  the  stairs.  "And  this  air  is  so 
pure  and  the  sun  so  bright !  Oh,  he 
must  grow  strong  here !  Anybody  would 
be  cured  here — anybody  !"* 

The  captain  followed  her  to  the  barn 
yard.  It  was  one  of  her  inexorable  pre 
scriptions  for  him  that  he  should  drink  a 
glass  of  warm  milk-punch  before  break 
fast,  and  smell  the  cow's  breath  during 
the  operation.  She  was  milking  the  white 
cow  herself,  while  the  pseudo  sempstress, 
Nichols,  waited  with  the  goblet,  and  the 
bandy-legged  shoemaker,  Twiss,  stood 
on  guard,  eyeing  Brindle's  horns  sus 
piciously. 

"  Now  the  glass  !  These  are  the  strip- - 
pings.  Oh  you'll  soon  learn,  Betty  !: 
You'll  make  butter  as  well  as  you  used . 
to  make  dresses  badly." 

The  little  widow  and  Twiss  laughed, . 
as  they  always  did  at  Jane's  weak  jokes, . 
and  took  the  punch  to  the  captain.  She  • 
was  the  finest  wit  of  her  day  in  their 
eyes.  The  hostler's  boy  ran  down  from 
the  stable  to  speak  to  her.  She  thought 
he  had  as  innocent  a  face  as  she  had  ever 
seen.  No  doubt  he  would  have  gone  to 
perdition  if  Neckart  had  not  rescued  him. 
She  stopped  to  talk  to  him  with  beaming 
eyes,  and  meeting  Betty's  toddling  baby 
took  it  up  and  tossed  it  in  the  air,  and 
then  walked  on,  carrying  the  soft  little 
thing  in  her  arms.  The  farm  was  like 
the  Happy  Valley  this  morning !  God 
was  so  good  to  her !  She  could  warm 
and  comfort  all  these  people.  Then  she 
turned  into  the  woods  and  sat  down  on 
a  fallen  log.  It  was  the  place  where  they 
had  stopped  to  rest  yesterday,  Neckart 
lying  at  her  feet.  There  was  the  imprint 
still  in  the  dead  moss  where  his  arm  had : 
lain.  She  looked  guiltily  about,  and  then  • 
laid  her  hand  in  the  broken  moss  with  ai 
quick  passionate  touch.  The  baby  caught- 
her  chin  in  its  fingers.  She  hugged  it  to- 
her  breast,  and  kissed  it  again  and  again 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


From  the  hemlock  overhead  a  tanager 
suddenly  flashed  up  into  the  air  with  a 
shrill  peal  of  song.  Jane  looked  up,  her 
face  and  throat  dyed  crimson.  Did  he 
know  ?  She  glanced  down  at  the  grass, 
at  the  friendly  trees  all  alive  with  rustling 
and  chirping.  The  sky  overhead  was  so 
deep  and  warm  a  blue  to-day.  It  seem 
ed  as  if  they  all  knew  that  he  loved  her. 

The  captain  found  Mr.  Neckart  stand 
ing  on  the  stoop  listening  to  some  sound 
that  came  up  from  the  woods. 

"It  is  Jane  singing,"  he  said.  "You 
would  not  hear  her  once  in  a  year.  He 
reditary  gift !  In  the  old  Swedish  annals 
we  read  of  the  remarkable  voices  of  the 
Svens." 

"  I  never  heard  her  sing  before."  Yet 
he  had  known  at  once  that  it  was  she. 
It  was  the  most  joyous  of  songs,  but 
there  was  a  foreboding  pathos  in  the 
voice  which  moved  him  as  no  other 
sound  had  ever  done. 

"You  are  not  going  before  breakfast  ?" 
cried  the  captain. 

"Yes,  and  I  shall  not  be  able  to  come 
again  for  a  long  time.  Say  to  Miss  Swen- 
don —  But  no.  I  will  go  and  bid  her 
good-bye." 

He  met  her  as  she  was  crossing  the 
plank  thrown  across  the  brook,  and  they 
stopped  by  the  little  hand-rail,  not  look 
ing  directly  at  each  other :  "  I  came  to 
bid  you  good-morning." 

"  Do  you  take  the  early  train,  then  ?" 

"Yes."  He  did  not  mean  to  tell  her 
that  he  would  not  come  again.  The 
more  ordinary  their  parting  the  sooner 
she  would  forget  it  and  him.  He  had 
thought  the  matter  out  during  the  night, 
and  being  a  man  who  was  apt  to  under 
rate  himself,  was  convinced  that  the  feel 
ing  which  she  had  betrayed  was  but  that 
transient  flush  of  preference  which  any 
very  young  and  innocent  girl  is  apt  to 
give  to  the  first  man  of  whom  she  makes 
a  companion. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  me  likely  to  win 
enduring  love  from  her.  A  more  intel 
lectual  woman,  indeed — "  He  had  gone 
over  the  argument  again  and  again. 
When  he  was  out  of  sight  her  fancy 
would  soon  turn  to  this  new  lover,  so 
much  better  suited  to  her  in  every  re 


spect.  For  himself —  But  he  had  no 
right  to  think  of  himself.  He  struck  that 
thought  down  fiercely  again  as  they  stood 
together  on  the  bridge.  No  more  right 
than  he  would  have,  were  he  dead,  to 
drag  down  this  young  creature  into  his 
grave. 

He  patted  the  child  on  the  head  as  it 
clung  to  her  dress,  and  talked  of  the 
chance  of  more  rain  with  perfect  correct 
ness  and  civility  ;  and  when  Jane  man 
aged  to  raise  her  eyes  to  his  face  she 
found  it  grave  and  preoccupied,  as  it 
usually  was  over  the  morning  papers. 
He  saw  Van  Ness  coming  smiling  to 
meet  her. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  go,"  he  said,  his 
eyes  passing  slowly  over  her  :  then  with 
a  hasty  bow,  not  touching  her  hand, 
he  struck  through  the  woods  to  the  sta 
tion,  thinking  as  he  went  how  she  was 
standing  then  on  the  bridge  in  the  sun 
shine,  with  the  man  whom  she  would 
marry  beside  her.  She  looked  after  him, 
her  eyes  full  of  still,  deep  content.  He 
loved  her.  She  had  forgotten  everything 
else. 

"A  perfect  morning,  Miss  Swendon," 
said  Mr.  Van  Ness,  stroking  his  magnif 
icent  golden  beard.  "You  see  just  this 
deep  azure  sky  above  the  Sandwich  Isl 
ands.  Now,  I  remember  watching  such  a 
dawn  on  Mauna  Loa.  Ah-h,jjw;  would 
have  appreciated  that.  Our  friend  has 
gone,  eh  ?  Most  active,  energetic  man  ! 
I  heard  him  tell  your  father  he  should 
not  return  soon  again." 

"Not  return?"  stopping  in  her  slow 
walk. 

"  No.  It  really  must  be  impossible  for 
an  editor  to  spare  time  often  for  visits  to 
even  such  an  Arcadia  as  this.  No  stock- 
market  or  political  news  in  Arcadia, 
eh?"  with  a  benevolent  gurgle  of  a 
laugh.  "Business!  business!  Miss  Swen 
don.  Ah,  how  it  engrosses  the  major 
ity  of  men !"  shaking  his  head  ponder 
ously. 

She  said  nothing.  It  was  as  if  she 
had  been  suddenly  wakened  out  of  a 
dream  in  the  crowd  of  a  dusty  market 
place.  He  had  gone  back  to  the  world, 
to  his  real  business  and  his  real  trouble. 
She,  with  her  love  and  her  intended  cure 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


for  him,  was  a  silly  fool  wandering  in  a 
fantastic  Arcadia. 

Miss  Fleming  was  walking  up  and 
down  on  the  porch  as  they  came  up, 
more  carefully  dressed  than  usual.  The 
captain  had  just  told  her  that  Neckart 
had  gone. 

"Ah?  I'm  very  sorry,"  carelessly. 
"  I  should  have  been  glad  to  see  him 
again.  Though  no  doubt  he  has  for 
gotten  me." 

She  went  forward  to  meet  Jane  with  a 
smile,  but  a  withered  gray  look  under 
her  eyes.  "  I  have  been  making  a  tour 
of  your  principality,"  she  said  as  they 
went  in  to  breakfast.  "  I  see  you  have 
brought  out  a  colony  of  Philadelphia 
paupers.  Twiss,  and  Betty,  and  the 
rest." 

"  They  were  not  paupers,"  said  Jane, 
taking  her  place  behind  the  urn.  "  Did 
you  see  into  what  a  great  boy  Top  has 
grown?  And  Peter?"  It  gave  her  a 
warm  glow  at  heart  to  remember  these 
people  just  now.  At  least,  there  her 
care  had  not  been  fantastic  or  thrown 
away. 

"  I  hardly  expected  you  to  take  up  the 
role  of  guardian  angel.  It  requires  study, 
after  all,  to  play  it  successfully,"  pursued 
Cornelia  with  an  amiable  smile,  cutting 
her  butter  viciously. — "Very  young  girls 
are  apt  to  be  impetuous  in  their  charities, 
and  damage  more  than  they  help,"  turn 
ing  to  the  judge.  "These  poor  people, 
for  instance.  Betty  had  her  kinsfolk 
about  her  in  Philadelphia,  her  church 
and  her  gossips.  She  complained  bitter 
ly  to  me  this  morning  that  she  '  had  no 
company  here  but  the  cows  :  Miss  Swen- 
don  might  as  well  have  whisked  her  off 
into  a  hay  then  desart.'  " 

"She  complained  to  you!"  cried  the 
captain.  "  Why,  the  trouble  and  money 
which  Jane  has  given  to  that  woman  and 
her  family !  They  were  starving,  I  as 
sure  you  !" 

Jane  listened  at  first  with  her  usual 
quiet  good-humor.  Miss  Fleming's  wasp 
ish  temper  generally  amused  her,  as  it 
would  have  done  a  man  (if  he  was  not 
her  husband).  But  she  began  to  grow 
anxious. 

"You  really  think  Betty  is  not  con 


tented  here  ?"  her  hand  a  little  unsteady 
as  she  poured  the  cream  into  the  cups. 

"  Contented  ?  She  seems  miserable 
enough.  Home  is  home,  you  know,  if 
it  is  only  a  cellar  and  starvation.  But 
perhaps"  —  with  a  shrug  —  "that  class 
of  Irish  are  never  happy  without  a  grie 
vance.  Now,  Twiss,  it  appears  to  me, 
has  just  ground  for  complaint. — A  shoe 
maker,"  turning  to  the  judge  a  face 
beaming  with  fun,  "whom  this  young 
lady  has  transported  and  set  down  in 
charge  of  gardens  and  hot-houses.  He 
does  not  know  a  hoe  from  a  mower,  and 
he  is  too  old  to  learn.  He  had  a  good 
trade :  now  he  has  nothing." 

"  But  he  could  not  live  by  his  trade," 
cried  Jane. 

"  Well,  cobbling  is  looking  up  now. 
In  any  case,  you  have  pauperized  him." 

"That's  bad — bad!  Now,  in  Virginia 
we  used  to  feed  everybody  who  came 
along !"  said  the  judge,  shaking  his 
head.  "But  I've  learned  wisdom  in  the 
cities.  Every  bit  of  bread  given  to  a 
beggar  degrades  human  nature  and  rots 
society  to  the  core." 

"But  suppose  he  is  starving?"  urged 
the  captain.  "  The  Good  Samaritan 
wasn't  afraid  of  pauperizing  that  poor 
devil  on  the  road." 

"  Let  him  starve.  He  will  have  pre 
served  his  self-respect.  The  Good  Sa 
maritan  knew  nothing  of  political  econ 
omy,  sir." 

Jane  left  her  breakfast  untasted.  She 
understood  nothing  about  political  econ 
omy,  but  she  saw  that  she  had  done  irrep 
arable  injury  to  these  people  whom  she 
had  tried  to  serve — God  knew  with  what 
anxiety  and  tenderness  of  heart.  In  one 
case,  at  least,  there  had  been  no  mistake. 

"  Did  you  see  Phil  ?"  she  said,  turning 
with  brightening  countenance  to  Miss 
Fleming.  "  We  intend  to  have  Phil  ed 
ucated.  He  is  such  a  keen-witted  little 
fellow." 

Miss  Fleming  laughed  outright  now : 
"Mr.  Neckart's  protege?  Yes,  I  saw 
him.  He  has  been  stealing  tobacco  and 
money  from  Dave,  it  appears,  ever  since 
he  came,  and  was  found  out  this  morn 
ing.  There  was  a  horrible  row  in  the 
stable  as  I  passed." 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"Of  course  he  stole!"  said  the  judge 
triumphantly.  "  I  tell  you,  the  more  ef 
forts  you  make  to  reform  the  dangerous 
classes  the  more  hardened  you  will  grow. 
It's  hopeless — hopeless  !" 

Her  other  listeners  each  promptly  pre 
sented  their  theory.  Like  all  intelligent 
Americans,  they  were  provided  with  the 
ories  on  every  social  problem,  and  were 
ready  to  hang  it  on  an  individual  stable- 
boy  or  any  other  nail  of  a  fact  which 
might  offer.  Jane  alone  sat  silent.  She 
did  not  hear  when  her  father  spoke  to 
her  once  or  twice. 

"You  are  disappointed,"  Mr.  Van 
Ness's  soft  soothing  voice  murmured  in 
her  ear.  "  I  know  how  these  baffled  ef 
forts  chill  the  heart.  I  will  explain  to 
you  the  machinery  which  I  propose  to 
bring  to  bear  on  these  classes." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  ma 
chinery  or  classes.  Twiss  and  Betty 
were  friends  of  mine,  and  I  tried  to  help 
them,  and  have  failed." 

Miss  Fleming,  who  was  watching  her 
furtively,  saw  her  dull  eyes  raised  pres 
ently  and  rest  on  the  captain,  who  with 
a  red  face  and  bursts  of  laughter  was 
telling  one  of  his  interminable  stories. 

"This  girl,"  Cornelia  said  to  herself, 
"has  everything  which  I  have  not — beau 
ty,  wealth,  Bruce  Neckart's  love.  Yet 
she  looks  at  that  weak  old  man  as  if  he 
were  all  that  was  left  her  in  the  world." 
She  had  put  Jane  before  on  the  general 
basis  of  antipathy  which  she  had  to  ev 
erything  in  the  world  that  was  not  mas 
culine,  but  the  feeling  had  kindled  since 
last  night  into  active  dislike. 

When  breakfast  was  over  and  their 
guests  had  gone  to  their  rooms  to  make 
ready  to  meet  the  train,  Jane  decoyed  the 
captain  away  to  Bruno's  kennel,  where 
he  was  tied  during  Mr.  Van  Ness's  stay. 
Once  out  of  sight,  she  retied  his  cravat, 
arranged  his  white  hair  to  her  liking, 
stroked  his  sunken  cheeks.  Here  was 
something  actual  and  real.  She  knew 
now  that  she  had  never  had  anything 
that  was  truly  her  own  but  the  kind  fool 
ish  face  looking  down  on  her.  She  nev 
er  would  have  anything  more.  Only  an 
hour  ago  life  had  opened  for  her  wide 
and  fair  as  the  dawn :  now  it  had  nar 


rowed  to  this  old  hand  in  hers,  to  his 
breath,  that  came  and  went  —  O  God, 
how  feebly ! 

"You  are  looking  stronger  to-day,  fa 
ther.  You  are  gaining  every  day.  Oh 
that  is  quite  certain  !  Very  soon  we  shall 
have  you  as  well  and  strong  as  you  were 
at  forty." 

What  if  she  had  not  had  money  this 
last  year  ?  He  never  could  have  lived 
through  it.  God  had  been  kind  to  her 
— kind !  She  pressed  his  hand  to  her 
breast  with  a  quick  glance  out  to  the 
bright  sky.  The  captain  saw  her  chin 
quivering.  His  own  thoughts  ran  partly 
in  the  same  line  as  hers. 

"Oh,  I'm  gaining,  no  doubt  of  it. 
Though  I  never  could  have  pulled 
through  this  year  if  we  had  had  to  live 
in  the  old  way.  God  bless  Will  Laidley 
for  leaving  the  money  as  he  did  !" 

"  It  was  not  his  to  leave  otherwise !" 
she  cried  indignantly. 

"  Tut,  tut,  Jane  !  Of  course  it  was  his. 
By  every  law.  He  could  have  flung  it 
away  where  he  chose ;  and  he  had  a  per 
fect  right  to  do  it." 

It  was  not  God  who  had  been  kind  to 
her,  then :  it  was  only  that  she  had  stolen 
the  money  ? 

"Come,  Jenny:  we  must  go  back  to 
the  house." 

"  In  a  moment,  father.  Go  on  :  I  will 
follow  you." 

She  walked  up  and  down  the  tan-bark 
path  for  a  while.  She  was  sure  of  noth 
ing.  Wherever  she  had  done  what  seem 
ed  to  her  right  and  natural,  she  was  bar 
red  and  checked  by  the  world's  laws 
and  experience.  She  had  brought  these 
starving  wretches  out  of  a  hell  upon 
earth  into  this  paradise,  and  even  they 
laughed  at  her  want  of  wisdom  :  the  very 
money  which  was  her  own  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  which  had  lengthened  her 
father's  life,  ought  to  be  given  back  to 
day  to  the  poor,  its  rightful  owners.  If 
there  was  any  other  cause  for  her  to  fight 
blindly  against  the  narrow  matter-of-fact 
routine  which  ruled  her  life,  she  did  not 
name  it  even  to  herself. 

Looking  toward  the  house,  she  saw  her 
father  escorting  their  guests  to  the  gate, 
where  the  carriage  waited,  David  re- 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


53 


splendent  on  the  box.  The  captain 
walked  with  a  feeble  kind  of  swagger : 
his  voice  came  back  to  her  in  weak  gusts 
of  laughter.  She  laid  her  hand  on  a  tree, 
glancing  about  her  with  a  firm  sense  of 
possession.  "The  property  is  mine,"  she 
said,  "  and  I'll  keep  it  as  long  as  he  lives, 
if  all  the  paupers  in  the  United  States 
were  starving  at  the  gates !" 


CHAPTER   XII. 

MR.  VAN  NESS  returned  to  the  Hem 
lock  Farm  at  stated  periods  during  the 
summer.  He  had,  to  be  plain,  sat  down 
before  Jane's  heart  to  besiege  it  with  the 
same  ponderous  benign  calm  with  which 
he  ate  an  egg  or  talked  of  death.  There 
was  a  bronze  image  of  Buddha  in  the 
hall  at  the  Farm,  the  gaze  of  the  god  fix 
ed  with  ineffable  content,  as  it  had  been 
for  ages,  on  his  own  stomach. 

Jane  went  up  to  it  one  day  after  an 
hour's  talk  with  Mr.  Van  Ness.  "  This 
creature  maddens  me,"  she  said.  "I  al 
ways  want  to  break  it  into  pieces  to  see 
it  alter." 

Little  Mr.  Waring,  who  had  .come  with 
Van  Ness,  hurried  up  as  a  connoisseur  in 
bronzes,  adjusting  his  eye-glasses.  "Why, 
it  is  faultless,  Miss  Swendon  !"  he  cried. 

"That  is  precisely  what  makes  it  in 
tolerable." 

Much  of  Jane's  large,  easy  good-humor 
was  gone  by  this  time.  She  had  grown 
thin,  was  eager,  restless,  uncertain  of 
what  she  ought  or  ought  not  to  do,  even 
in  trifles. 

Mr.  Waring  and  Judge  Rhodes  were 
both  at  the  Farm  now.  They  ran  over 
to  New  York  every  week  or  two.  Phil 
Waring  was  not  a  marrying  man,  but  it 
was  part  of  his  duty  as  a  leader  in  society 
to  be  intimate  with  every  important  heir 
ess  or  beauty  in  the  two  cities.  Out  of 
sincere  compassion  to  Jane's  stupendous 
ignorance  he  would  sit  for  hours  stroking 
his  moustache,  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
his  feet  on  a  rung  of  the  chair,  dribbling 
information  as  to  the  nice  effects  in  the 
Water -Color  Exhibition,  or  miraculous 
"finds"  of  Spode  or  Wedgwood  in  old 
junk-shops,  or  the  most  authentic  infor 


mation  as  to  why  the  Palfreys  had  no 
cards  to  Mrs.  Livingstone's  kettledrums, 
while  Jane  listened  with  a  quizzical  gleam 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  did  to  the  little  ban 
tam  hen  outside  cackling  and  strutting 
over  its  new  egg. 

"We  must  have  you  in  society  this 
winter,"  he  urged.  "It  is  a  duty  you 
owe  in  your  position.  You  have  no 
choice  about  it." 

"You  are  right,  Mr.  Waring,"  called 
the  captain  from  the  corner  where  he  sat 
with  Judge  Rhodes.  "The  child  must 
have  friends  in  her  own  class."  He 
dropped  his  voice  again:  "The  truth  is, 
Rhodes,  she  has  no  ties  like  other  girls. 
Her  dog  and  two  or  three  old  women 
and  some  children — that  is  all  she  knows 
of  life.  It's  enough  while  she  has  me. 
But  I  shall  not  be  here  long,  now.  Not 
many  months." 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met. 

"Does  she  know?"  asked  the  judge 
after  a  while. 

"No."  The  captain's  gaunt  features 
worked  :  he  trotted  his  foot  to  some  tune, 
looking  down  from  the  window  and  whis 
tling  under  his  breath.  "  It  was  for  this 
I  sent  for  you,"  he  added  presently.  "  If 
I  could  only  see  her  settled,  married,  be 
fore  I  go  !  She  is  no  more  fit  to  be  left 
alone  in  the  world  than  Bruno." 

The  judge  shook  his  head  in  gloomy 
assent.  His  own  opinion  was  that  Jane 
would  follow  her  own  instincts  in  a  dog- 
like  fashion  if  her  father  was  out  of  the 
way,  and  God  only  knew  where  they 
would  lead  her !  He  had  brought  his 
own  girls,  Rose  and  Netty,  with  him  to 
visit  her,  in  order  that  she  might  have  a 
domestic  feminine  influence  upon  her. 
They  found,  accidentally,  that  she  did 
not  know  a  word  of  any  catechism,  and, 
terrified,  loaned  her  religious  novels  to 
convert  her :  she  took  them  graciously, 
but  never  cut  the  leaves.  There  were  to 
them  even  more  heathenish  indications 
in  her  hoopless  straight  skirts  :  the  good 
little  creatures  zealously  cut  and  trimmed 
a  dress  for  her  from  the  very  last  pat 
terns.  She  put  it  on,  and  straightway 
went  through  bog  and  brake  with  Bruno 
for  mushrooms,  coming  back  with  it  in 
tatters.  They  chattered  in  their  thin  fal- 


54 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


setto  voices  the  last  Culpepper  gossip  into 
her  patient  ear — the  story  of  Rosey's 
balls  at  Old  Point,  and  Netty's  lovers, 
all  of  whom  were  "splendid  matches 
until  impohverished  by  the  war."  She 
listened  to  their  chirping  with  amused 
eyes,  tapping  them,  when  they  were 
through,  approvingly  on  the  head  as 
though  they  were  clever  canaries.  The 
girls  told  their  father  that  they  "feared 
her  principles  leaned  toward  infidelity, 
and  that  it  was  never  safe  to  be  intimate 
with  these  original  women,"  and  had 
gone  home  the  next  day,  not  waiting  for 
the  judge.  They  washed  their  hands  of 
her,  and  gloved  them  again,  but  he  still 
felt  responsible  for  her.  After  he  left 
the  captain  he  went  to  her,  fatherly  in 
terest  radiant  in  every  feature :  "  Mr. 
Waring  is  right,  Jane.  It  is  high  time 
that  you  were  taking  your  part  in  society. 
Your  father  wishes  it." 

"I  will  do  whatever  he  wishes,"  quiet 
ly. — "You  did  not  know  us  when  we 
lived  in  the  old  house  in  Southwark,  Mr. 
Waring.  We  invented  our  patents  then. 
Sometimes  we  could  afford  to  go  to  the 
gallery  at  the  theatre  when  the  play  was 
good.  Father  and  the  newsboys  would 
lead  the  clapping.  And  we  went  once  a 
year  in  our  patched  shoes  a-fishing  for  a 
holiday.  Those  were  good  times." 

"  Perfect  child  of  Nature  !"  telegraph 
ed  Mr.  Waring  uneasily  to  the  judge. 
"How  Mrs.  Wilde  will  rejoice  in  you, 
Miss  Swendon  !  Nature  is  her  specialty. 
She  is  coming  to  call  this  morning. — 
Miss  Swendon,"  turning  anxiously  to 
the  judge,  "can  have  no  better  sponsor 
in  society  than  Mrs.  Wilde.  She  only 
can  give  the.  accolade  to  all  aspirants. 
No  amount  of  money  will  force  an  en 
trance  at  her  doors.  There  must  be 
blood  —  blood.  'Swendon?'  she  said 
when  I  spoke  to  her  about  this  call. 
'  The  Swedish  Svens  ?  I  remember. 
Queen  Christina's  gallant  lieutenant 
was  her  great-grandfather.  Good  stock. 
None  better.  The  girl  must  belong  to 
our  circle.'  So,  now  it  is  all  settled !" 
rubbing  his  hands  and  smiling. 

"Jane  is  careless,"  said  the  captain 
eagerly.  "People  of  the  best  fashion 
have  called,  and  she  has  not  even  left 


cards.  Her  dress  too —  Now  a  Paris 
gown,  fringes  and — " 

The  three  men  looked  at  her  at  that 
with  a  sudden  imbecile  despair,  at  which 
she  laughed  and  went  out. 

The  captain  found  her  presently  down 
by  the  boat  in  which  she  had  heard 
Neckart's  story.  She  bailed  it  out  and 
cleaned  it  carefully  every  day,  but  she 
had  never  gone  on  the  river  in  it  since 
that  night. 

"  Father,"  stepping  ashore,  "what have 
I  done  that  I  must  be  turned  into  anoth 
er  woman  ?" 

"  Now,  Jenny,  making  models  and 
crabbing  were  well  enough  for  you  as 
a  child.  But,  as  Waring  justly  observes, 
the  society  to  which  you  belong  is  inex 
orable  in  its  rules  for  a  woman." 

She  flung  out  her  arms  impatiently, 
and  then  clasped  them  above  her  head. 
It  seemed  as  if  a  thousand  fine  clammy 
webs  were  being  spun  about  her. 

"If  you  had  any  especial  talent,  as 
Waring  says  —  if  you  were  artistic  or 
musical,  or  concerned  in  some  asylum- 
work — you  could  take  your  own  path, 
independent  of  society.  But — "  looking 
down  at  her  anxiously. 

"  I  understand.  I  don't  know  what  I 
was  made  for." 

It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  she 
had  been  driven  in  to  consider  herself. 
She  stood  grave  and  intent,  saying  noth 
ing  for  some  time.  Every  other  woman 
had  some  definite  aim.  The  whole  world 
was  marching  by,  keeping  step  to  a  neat, 
orderly  little  tune.  They  made  calls, 
they  gave  alms,  they  dressed,  all  of  the 
same  fashion. 

"Why  not  be  like  other  people?"  her 
father  was  saying,  making  a  burden  to 
her  thought. 

"  I  don't  know  why,"  drearily. 

"What  would  you  have,  Jenny ?"  tak 
ing  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Father,  I  never  loved  but  one  or  two 
people  in  the  world.  You  and  Bruno 
and — not  many  others.  I  can  do  noth 
ing  outside  of  them." 

"Nonsense  !  You  cannot  be  a  law  to 
yourself,  child.  God  knows  I  want  to 
see  you  happy !"  his  voice  breaking. 
"  But,"  straightening  his  eye  -  glasses, 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


55 


"Waring  says,  very  justly,  you  are  out 
of  the  groove  which  all  other  girls  are 
in."  He  stopped  inquiringly,  but  she 
did  not  answer.  She  was  a  strongly- 
built  woman  in  mind  and  body,  and  just 
then  she  felt  her  strength.  The  blood 
rushed  in  a  swift  current  through  her 
veins.  Why  should  she  be  hampered 
with  these  thousand  meaningless,  sham 
duties  ?  She  was  fit  for  but  one  purpose 
— to  serve  two  men  whom  she  loved. 
Her  father  was  ill,  and  he  pushed  her 
from  him  into  Society  ;  and  Bruce  Neck- 
art  was  alone,  and  with  a  worse  fate  than 
death  creeping  on  him,  and  he — 

"Why  does  not  Mr.  Neckart  come  to 
us  ?"  she  asked  abruptly.  "  It  is  months 
since  I  have  seen  him." 

"  His  health  is  failing.  There  is  some 
trouble  of  the  brain  threatened.  I  hear 
that  he  is  going  to  give  up  the  paper, 
and  is  settling  up  his  business  to  go  to 
Europe."  Her  question  startled  him  :  he 
watched  her  with  a  new  keen  suspicion. 

"  If  this  must  come  on  him,  why  should 
he  not  come  here  to  bear  it  ?  I  can  nurse 
you  both.  Surely,  that  is  as  good  work 
as  returning  calls  or  learning  to  dress  in 
Parisian  style,"  with  a  short  laugh. 

The  captain's  face  gathered  intelligence 
as  he  listened.  He  knew  her  secret  now. 
For  a  moment  he  felt  a  wrench  of  pity 
for  her.  But  love,  with  the  captain,  had 
been  a  sentimental  fever  ending  in  a  cold 
ague :  he  had  experienced  light  heats  and 
chills  of  it  many  a  time  since.  This  wild 
fancy  of  the  girl's  would  speedily  burn  it 
self  out  if  judiciously  damped.  He  would 
at  once  take  the  matter  in  hand. 

"Neckart,"  he  said  deliberately,  eying 
her  to  gauge  the  effect  of  his  words,  "is  a 
man  of  sense  and  knowledge  of  the  world. 
He  knows  his  condition,  and  in  the  little 
time  left  to  him  he  attends  to  his  business 
and  important  political  affairs,  instead  of 
nursing  a  romantic  friendship  which  can 
not  serve  him,  and  would  only  compro 
mise  you." 

"  Compromise  me  ?  I  don't  understand 
you,  father." 

"A  woman  could  not  render  such  ser 
vice  as  you  offer  except  to  her  betrothed 
lover  or  husband." 

"Why,  he  would  understand." 


"  But  Society,  child — " 

"Oh,  Society!"  with  a  laugh.  "But 
you  do  not  remember !"  clasping  her 
hands  on  his  shoulder.  "  If  this  thing 
comes  upon  him — he  has  looked  forward 
to  it  all  his  life — he  has  nobody.  He  is 
quite  alone." 

"At  least,"  impatiently,  "you  will  not 
be  involved.  I  did  not  understand  be 
fore  why  Bruce  had  deserted  us  lately. 
I  see  now  that  he  has  acted  very  proper 
ly.  It  was  not  his  fault  nor  yours — this 
flirtation — preference — or  whatever  you 
may  choose  to  call  it.  But  Bruce  knows 
the  world,  and  knows  just  how  long-lived 
such  fancies  are,  and  he  intends  that  it 
shall  be  no  hinderance  to  your  marriage 
— making  an  excellent  match." 

"  I  marry  ?  Make  an  excellent  match  ?" 

"Yes.  Certainly.  What  else  should  you 
do  ?  Don't  look  in  that  way,  my  darling. 
It  frightens  me.  I'm  not  strong.  It  is  not 
death  that  is  coming  to  you,  but  a  good 
husband.  You  need  not  turn  so  white." 

"And  Mr.  Neckart  planned  this  for 
me?" 

"  N-no.  I  can't  say '  planned,'  to  be  ac 
curate.  But  he  agreed  in  our  plan.  Why, 
Bruce  has  common  sense.  He  knows  it 
is  the  way  of  the  world  that  a  woman 
should  marry,  and  he  will  be  much  hap 
pier  to  know  that  you  are  the  wife  of  a 
good  man — good  and  good-looking  too. 
Much  more  presentable  than  Bruce,  poor 
fellow !" 

The  captain  watched  her  closely  as  he 
gave  this  home-thrust.  How  a  woman 
could  turn  from  that  magnificent,  devout 
reformer  to  any  lean,  irascible  politician  ! 
Her  foot  was  on  the  edge  of  the  little 
skiff.  She  pushed  it  into  the  water. 
While  he  sat  in  the  boat  there  that  night, 
with  the  moonlight  white  about  them, 
while  he  told  her  that  he  loved  her,  he  had 
been  planning  this  good  match  for  her ! 
There  was  no  such  thing  as  love,  then, 
in  the  world  ?  Or  truth  ?  But  there  was 
Society  and  common  sense  and  the  in 
exorable  rules  of  propriety.  Bruce  Neck- 
art  represented  to  her  Strength  itself,  and 
he  submitted  to  these  rules  cheerfully. 
He  was  happy  to  think  of  her  as  the 
wife  of  a  good,  presentable  man ! 

When  she  had  thought  of  him  as  going 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


alone  with  his  terrible  burden  away  from 
her  into  the  wilderness,  true  to  her  until 
the  last  breath  of  reason  was  gone,  there 
had  been  a  thrill  of  delight  in  the  intol 
erable  pain.  But  planning,  like  finical 
little  Waring,  that  she  should  fall  snugly 
into  a  fashionable  set,  Parisian  gowns,  a 
suitable  marriage ! 

Jane  had  not  the  womanish  faculty  of 
thinning  every  fact  or  thought  that  came 
to  her  into  tears  or  talk.  Neckart  had 
gone  out  of  her  life.  She  accepted  the 
fact  at  once,  without  argument.  What 
the  loss  imported  to  her  would  assured 
ly  be  known  only  to  her  own  narrow, 
one-sided  mind,  and  the  God  who  had 
given  it  to  her. 

"Shall  we  go  to  the  house,  father? 
Can't  you  laugh  again,  and  look  like  your 
self  ?  Why,  I  will  give  myself  up,  body 
and  soul,  to  Society  or  Philanthropy  — 
anything  you  choose — rather  than  see  you 
so  shaken."  She  hung  on  his  arm  as 
they  went  up  the  path,  talking  incessant 
ly,  and  laughing  more,  as  even  the  cap 
tain  felt,  than  the  jokes  would  warrant. 
The  moment  was  favorable  for  introdu 
cing  the  subject  he  had  at  heart. 

"The  last  train  brought  out  a  dozen 
men  to  consult  Mr.  Van  Ness,"  he  be 
gan —  "deputations  from  church  and 
charitable  organizations.  'Pon  my  soul, 
I  don't  know  what  Christianity  in  this 
country  would  do  without  that  man !" 

"  It  would  wear  a  very  different  face," 
absently. 

"  I  went  with  Rhodes  to  a  great  revival- 
meeting  in  town  one  night  lately,  and 
Van  Ness,  of  course,  was  called  up  on 
the  platform.  Rhodes  thought  he  look 
ed  like  one  of  the  apostles  in  modern 
dress ;  and  all  the  ladies  near  me  said 
that  his  face  beamed  with  heavenly  light. 
It  would  have  made  anybody  devout  to 
look  at  him.  Are  you  listening  ?"  glan 
cing  at  her  abstracted  face.  "  You  cer 
tainly  think  him  remarkably  handsome  ? 
As  to  his  nose,  now  ?" 

"I  don't  suppose  anybody  could  find 
fault  with  his  nose,"  smiling. 

"Nor  with  his  manner?" 

"Nor  with  his  manner." 

"And  yet  you  are  not  friends,  eh?" 
holding  his  breath  for  her  answer. 


"No,"  carelessly.  "Mr.  Van  Ness 
and  I  could  not  be  friends." 

"Why?  why?" 

"How  could  I  tell?"  with  a  shrug, 
and  looking  at  Bruno,  who  was  fighting 
a  cat  just  then  without  cause. 

The  captain  looked  and  sighed.  It 
was  of  no  use,  he  thought,  to  try  to  ac 
count  for  the  prejudices  or  likings  of 
any  of  the  lower  animals. 

Mr.  Waring  met  them  at  the  moment 
in  an  anxious  flutter :  "  Mrs.  Wilde  is 
here.  She  is  coming  down  the  path." 

Mrs.  Wilde  was  a  small,  plump  old 
lady  with  a  sober,  tranquil  face  framed 
in  soft  puffs  of  white  hair;  her  dress 
never  rustled  or  brought  itself  into  any 
notice;  her  language  never  fell  uneasily 
out  of  its  quiet  gait ;  when  she  spoke  to 
you,  you  felt  that  something  genuine  and 
happy  dorninated  you  for  the  moment. 

"I  followed  Mr.  Waring  here,"  hold 
ing  out  her  hand.  "  One  makes  acquaint 
ance  so  much  more  quickly  out  of  doors. 
I  must  begin  ours  by  asking  for  your 
arm,  Miss  Swendon.  I  am  fat  and  scant 
o'  breath,  and  apt  to  forget  it." 

Jane  drew  the  puffy  hand  eagerly 
through  her  arm.  She  would  have  liked 
to  say  outright  how  welcome  the  moth 
erly  presence  and  the  honest  voice  were 
to  her  just  then. 

Mrs.  Wilde  dismissed  the  captain  and 
Mr.  Waring,  and  the  two  women  sat 
down  in  the  arbor,  and  at  once  were  at 
ease  and  at  home  with  each  other.  Bru 
no  came  up,  eyed  and  smelled  the  new 
comer,  and  snuggled  down  on  her  skirts 
to  go  to  sleep. 

"He  vouches  for  me,"  she  said  nod 
ding.  "You  must  take  me  at  his  valua 
tion." 

"  He  makes  no  mistakes." 

"  Nor  do  you,  I  suspect.  That  reminds 
me,  Miss  Swendon.  I  brought  a  friend 
with  me,  and  now  that  I  have  seen  you 
I  mean  to  bespeak  your  good-will  for 
her.  She  needs  just  such  healthy  in 
fluence  as  yours  would  be." 

"Is  she  ill?" 

"Only  in  mind.  One  of  those  morbid 
women  who  must  make  a  drama  out  of 
their  lives,  and  prefer  to  make  it  a  trag 
edy.  A  Madame  Trebizoff,  an  English- 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


57 


woman  who  married  a  Russian  prince. 
She  is  a  widow  now,  with  large  means — 
came  to  New  York  a  few  months  ago, 
and  has  had  much  court  paid  to  her. 
But  her  nature  makes  her  always  a  very 
lonely  woman."  She  spoke  hastily  as 
the  trailing  of  heavy  skirts  approached 
on  the  grass.  "  Here  she  is,  poor  thing ! 
Be  good  to  her,"  she  whispered  before 
presenting  her  in  form.  Madame  Tre- 
bizoff  was  draped  in  black,  with  a  good 
deal  of  lace  about  her  head  and  an  arti 
ficial  yellow  rose  at  her  throat.  Jane 
went  up  to  her  with  outstretched  hand, 
but  when  the  sallow  face  turned  full  on 
her  she  stopped  short,  looked  at  it  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  bowed  without  a  word. 

"It  is  the  materialized  spirit!"  But 
she  did  not  speak,  for  in  a  moment  she 
remembered  that  she  had  once  taken  the 
bread  from  the  wretched  woman's  mouth. 
She  would  not  do  it  again. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MR.  VAN  NESS  came  beaming  down 
through  the  lilacs  to  the  arbor,  and  was 
received  with  much  reverence  by  Mrs. 
Wilde.  She  was  a  devout  woman,  and 
Pliny  Van  Ness's  name  was  in  all  the 
churches.  They  all  sauntered  back  to 
luncheon  presently,  Mrs.  Wilde  and  Jane 
going  before,  while  Mr.  Van  Ness  and  the 
Russian  princess  walked  more  slowly 
through  the  woods,  the  foreigner  talking 
with  animation  and  many  gestures  of 
American  trees,  while  the  reformer  lis 
tened  benignly,  ineffable  calm  in  his 
smiling  eyes. 

"You  followed  me  here  purposely, 
Charlotte  ?"  he  said  gently  as  she  dilated 
eloquently  on  our  autumnal  foliage. 

"No.  I  did  not  know  that  you  were 
in  New  York.  But  I  meant  to  call  upon 
you  soon.  I  have  had  no  money  from 
you  since  last  August." 

"Somebody,  apparently,  has  filled  my 
place  as  your  banker,"  his  placid  eye 
sweeping  over  the  costly  dress  and  be- 
diamonded  fingers. 

"What  is  that  to  you  ?"  with  a  sudden 
shrill  passion.  "Once  you  would  have 
cared,  Pliny.  But  that  was  years  ago." 


"Yes.  Many  years  ago,"  buttoning 
his  glove  carefully.  "A  Russian  princess, 
eh  ?"  after  a  short  pause.  "  You  are  play- 
inghigher  than  ordinary,  Charlotte.  You'll 
find  it  dangerous.  I  should  advise  you  to 
keep  to  begging  letters  or  the  role  of  me 
dium  or  literary  tramp." 

"One  class  is  as  ready  to  be  humbug 
ged  as  the  other.  Who  knows  that  bet 
ter  than  you  ?" 

"In  the  religious  and  charitable  work 
to  which  I  have  given  up  my  life,"  de 
liberately  measuring  his  words,  "there 
are  few  impostors  to  be  met.  We  usual 
ly  detect  fraud,  with  God's  help,  and  do 
not  suffer  from  it,  therefore." 

She  stopped  short,  looking  at  him  with 
blank  amazement.  Then  walked  on  with 
a  shrug :  "Absolutely !  He  expects  me  to 
believe  in  him  !  He  believes  in  himself! 
Can  imposture  go  further  than  that  ?" 

Mrs.  Wilde,  in  the  distance,  caught 
sight  of  the  two  figures  as  they  passed 
through  a  belt  of  sunlight,  and  smiled 
contentedly. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  bring  poor  madame 
under  direct  religious  influence  !  Mr. 
Van  Ness  is  speaking  to  her  with  great 
earnestness,  I  perceive." 

The  Princess  Trebizoff  scanned  the 
great  reformer  as  they  walked,  apprais 
ing  him,  from  the  measured  solemn  step 
to  his  calm  humility  of  eye.  She  would 
have  relished  a  passionate  scene  with 
him.  After  terrapin  and  champagne, 
there  was  nothing  she  relished  so  much 
as  emotion  and  tears.  But  they  had  play 
ed  up  to  each  other  so  often  !  The  trag 
edy  in  their  relation  had  grown  terribly 
stale !  You  could  not,  she  felt,  make 
Hamlet's  inky  cloak  out  of  dyed  cotton. 
But  he  would  serve  as  audience. 

"  I'm  growing  very  tired  of  good  so 
ciety,"  talking  rapidly  as  usual.  "  Now, 
you  always  enjoyed  a  dead  level,  Pliny." 

"Yes.  There's  no  Bohemian  blood  in 
my  veins.  I  was  designed  for  respect 
ability." 

"So?  I  mean  Ted  shall  be  respect 
able,"  with  sudden  earnestness.  "  He  is 
in  a  Presbyterian  college.  I  should  be 
glad  if  he'd  go  into  the  ministry.  Yes, 
I  should.  Provided  he  had  a  call  from 
God.  I'll  have  no  sham  professions 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


from  Ted,"  her  black  eyes  sparkling. 
"You  did  not  ask  for  the  boy.  In  your 
weighty  affairs  doubtless  you  forgot  there 
was  such  a  human  being." 

"  No,  indeed.  In  what  institution  have 
you  placed  Thaddeus  ?" 

"No  matter.  He's  out  of  your  influ 
ence,  thank  God !  He  never  heard  your 
name.  But  as  for  me,  I  think  I'll  drop 
this  princess  business  soon,"  meditative 
ly.  "I  began  down  town,"  with  a  fresh 
burst  of  vivacity.  "On  the  boarding- 
house  keepers.  Last  December." 

"  You  are  Madame  Varens  !  Is  it  pos 
sible?"  turning  to  look  at  her.  "The 
papers  were  filled  with  your  exploits  last 
winter." 

"  Precisely !"  She  had  a  joyous  girlish 
laugh,  infectious  enough  to  draw  a  smile 
from  Van  Ness. 

"You  are  really  very  clever,  Charlotte," 
admiringly. 

"  I  made  a  tour  in  the  West  just  before 
that,"  excitedly,  patting  her  hands  togeth 
er.  "Agent  for  Orphans'  Homes  in  the 
Gulf  States.  I  wrote  a  letter  of  intro 
duction  from  one  or  two  bishops  to  the 
clergymen  in  their  dioceses :  that  started 
me,  and  the  clergy  and  press  passed  me 
through.  What  a  mill  of  tea-drinkings 
and  church-gossip  I  went  through  !  But 
it  was  better  fun  than  this." 

Looking  up,  she  happened  to  catch  the 
cold,  furtive  glance  with  which  he  had 
listened,  and  kept  her  eye  fixed  on  him 
curiously. 

"  Do  you  hate  me  so  much  as  that?" 
she  said  with  a  long  breath.  "Well," 
frankly,  "  it  must  be  intolerable  to  carry 
such  a  millstone  about  your  neck  as  I 
am  to  you.  You  know  I  could  pull  you 
down  any  minute  I  chose,"  tossing  her 
head  and  laughing  maliciously.  "  No 
matter  how  high  you  had  climbed.  I 
often  wonder,  Pliny,  why  you  do  not  rid 
yourself  of  me.  It  could  be  easily  done." 

The  usually  suave  tone  was  harsh  and 
hoarse  as  he  began  to  speak.  He  cough 
ed,  and  carefully  modulated  his  voice  be 
fore  he  said  politely,  "  Yes.  But  it  would 
involve  exposure  unless  carefully  man 
aged.  That  is  certain  damnation.  There 
is  a  chance  of  safety  for  the  present  in 
trusting  to  you.  You  were  always  good- 


natured,  Charlotte.  And,"  turning  his 
watery  eye  full  on  her,  "you  loved  me 
once." 

"Possibly,"  coolly.  "But  last  year's 
loves  are  as  tedious  reading  as  last  year's 
newspapers.  Better  trust  my  good-nature. 
You  show  your  shrewdness  in  that.  I 
don't  interfere  with  people.  The  world 
uses  me  very  well.  It's  a  hogshead  that 
gives  the  best  of  wine — if  you  know  how 
to  tap  it." 

"You've  tapped  it  with  a  will.  You 
go  through  life  perpetually  drunk,"  he 
thought  as  she  ran  lightly  before  him  up 
the  steps.  He  habitually  made  such 
complacent  moral  reflections  upon  his 
companions  to  himself,  and  took  spir 
itual  comfort  in  them. 

The  hall  was  wide  and  sunny,  made 
homelike  by  low  seats  and  growing 
plants :  it  was  occupied  by  half  a  dozen 
committee-men,  who  were  waiting  im 
patiently  to  see  Mr.  Van  Ness.  The 
princess  seated  herself,  attentive,  her 
head  on  one  side  like  some -bright-eyed 
tropical  bird. 

Van  Ness,  without  even  a  glance  to 
ward  her,  took  up  his  business  of  Chris 
tian  financier.  "  Do  not  go,  I  beg,"  as 
the  captain  opened  the  inner  door  for 
Rhodes  and  the  ladies  to  retire.  "Our 
affairs  are  conducted  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public.  Sound  integrity  has  no  secrets 
to  keep.  That  is  our  pride. — Ah,  gen 
tlemen  ?" 

The  captain  was  glad  to  stay.  Surely, 
Jane  would  be  impressed  with  the  vast 
influence  of  this  good  man.  Van  Nessdid 
not  look  at  her  once.  But  he  saw  nobody 
but  her,  and  spoke  directly  to  her  ear. 

Asylums,  workingmen's  homes,  hos 
pitals,  in  all  of  which  he  was  a  director, 
were  brought  up  and  dismissed  with  a 
few  hopeful,  earnest  words.  The  vast 
system  of  organized  charities  through 
which  the  kindly  wealthy  class  touch  the 
poor  beneath  them  was  opened.  Mrs. 
Wilde,  a  manager  in  many  of  them,  join 
ed  in  the  discussion. 

"  What  a  useless  creature  I  am !" 
thought  Jane.  "  But  the  money,"  dog 
gedly,  "is  mine,  and  I  choose  to  give  it 
to  father  if  the  whole  world  go  hungry." 
She  turned,  however,  from  one  repre- 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEKSELF. 


59 


sentative  of  these  asylums  to  the  other 
with  a  baited  look.  Was  it  this  one  or 
that  whom  she  had  robbed  ? 

"Now,  as  to  Temperance  City — our 
city?"  demanded  a  puffy  little  man  im 
portantly.  "You  are  the  fountain-head 
of  information  there.  We  look  to  you, 
Mr.  Van  Ness." 

"You  shall  have  the  annual  report 
next  week. — Temperance  City,"  turning 
to  Rhodes,  his  balmy  gaze  aimed  straight 
over  her  head,  "is  a  scheme  to  protect 
people  of  small  means  in  the  churches, 
especially  women,  from  wrecking  their 
little  all  in  unwise  investments.  It  is  a 
town  on  the  line  of  the  Pacific  Railroad. 
Lots  are  only  sold  to  colonists  who  are  tee 
totallers  and  members  of  some  church. 
The  stock  is  owned  largely  by  the  same 
class." 

"Oh,  almost  altogether!"  cried  the 
little  man  enthusiastically.  "Mr.  Van 
Ness's  name,  as  you  will  understand, 
gives  it  authority  among  all  religious 
people.  We  distribute  prospectuses  at 
camp-meetings  and  at  all  sectarian  sea 
side  resorts.  Shares  go  off  this  summer 
like  hot  cakes.  There's  nothing  like  re 
ligion,  sir,  to  back  up  business  enter 
prise.  There's  Stokes,  for  instance.  His 
shoes  are  sold  from  New  Jersey  to  Ore 
gon  on  the  strength  of  the  hymns  he  has 
written." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  judge  solemnly.  "  We 
used  to  keep  religion  too  much  in  the 
chimney-corner — spoke  of  it  with  bated 
breath.  But  it's  in  trade  now,  sir.  We 
hear  every  day  of  our  Christian  shoe 
makers  and  railway  kings  and  states 
men.  The  world  moves !" 

"  Moves  ?  Oh  there's  no  lever  like 
religion!"  gasped  the  little  man.  "No 
advertisement  to  equal  it.  And  a  good 
man  ought  to  succeed !  Are  the  swin 
dlers  to  take  all  the  fat  of  the  land  ? 
Does  not  the  good  Book  say, '  To  the  la 
borers  belong  the  spoils'  ?" 

"  But  this  is  so  charming  to  me !"  cried 
the  princess.  "We  foreigners  have  so 
few  opportunities  of  looking  into  the 
workings  of  your  politics  and  trade !" 

Van  Ness  bowed  respectfully. 

"And  the  State  Home  for  destitute  chil 
dren  ?"  asked  a  raw-boned  Scotch-Irish 


man.  "We're  interested  in  that  here  in 
New  York.  We've  subscribed  largely, 
as  you're  aware,  Mr.  Van  Ness.  May  I 
ask  when  you  wull  begin  the  buildin'  ?" 

"  In  the  spring,  I  trust.  If  enough 
funds  are  collected." 

"And  hoo  air  the  funds  invested  in  the 
mean  while  ?" 

"Oh,  in  corner -lots  in  Temperance 
City." 

The  committee-men  had  hurried  away 
to  catch  the  next  train  :  lunch  was  over, 
and  Mr.  Van  Ness  stood  apart  on  the 
lawn  under  the  drooping  branches  of  a 
willow,  when  the  princess  tripped  lightly 
out  to  him. 

"  You  have  an  object  in  coming  here  ? 
You  had  an  object  in  bringing  those 
men  to-day  and  opening  out  your  affairs. 
What  is  it  ?" 

He  regarded  her  composedly  for  a  mo 
ment  without  answering :  "  You  always 
erred,  Charlotte,  in  ascribing  your  o\Vn 
skill  in  intrigue  to  me.  It  was  a  flattering 
mistake.  What  I  am  to  others  I  am  to 
myself." 

She  laughed,  a  merry,  hearty  laugh : 
"Yes,  Pliny,  because  you  are  not  satisfied 
with  cheating  the  world  and  the  God  that 
made  you  into  the  belief  that  you  are  a 
Christian,  but  you  parade  in  your  godli 
ness  before  yourself.  There  is  not  a  spot 
within  you  sound  enough  for  your  real 
soul  to  lodge  in.  It  is  all  like  that,"  set 
ting  her  foot  viciously  on  a  fallen  apple. 
"  Rotten  to  the  core  !" 

A  shadow  of  disgust  passed  over  his 
handsome  face.  Van  Ness  had  a  fas 
tidious  taste.  Her  melodramatic  poses 
had  been  familiar  to  him  for  years  :  they 
always  had  annoyed  and  bored  him. 

"  What  is  it  that  brings  you  here  ?  A 
woman  ?" 

He  hesitated  a  moment :  "Yes." 

"  This  yellow-haired  girl  ?  You  mean 
to  marry  her  ?" 

"  I  may  marry  her,"  cautiously. 

Their  eyes  met.  "  I  did  not  think  you 
would  push  me  so  far,"  she  said  thought 
fully. 

"  It  is  to  your  interest  not  to  interfere. 
You  are  mad,  Charlotte.  But  you  never 
lose  sight  of  the  dirty  dollar  in  your  mad- 


6o 


A  LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"That  is  for  Ted's  sake,"  quietly.  " I 
dislike  that  girl.  She's  so  damnably 
clean !  She's  of  the  sort  that  would 
walk  straight  on  and  trample  me  under 
foot  like  a  slug  if  she  knew  what  I  was. 
I  owe  her  an  old  grudge,  too.  But  that's 
nothing,"  laughing  good  -  humoredly. 
"  It  was  the  most  ridiculous  scene  !  But 
it  lost  me  a  year's  income.  She  nearly 
recognized  me  to-day.  On  the  whole,  I  '11 
not  interfere.  Marry  her.  She  deserves 
just  such  a  punishment.  By  the  way, 
there  is  my  card.  You  can  send  the  back 
payments  that  are  due,  to-morrow." 

Van  Ness  received  the  card  and  com 
mand  with  a  smile  and  bow,  meant  for 
the  bystanders:  "Of  course,  Charlotte, 
you  understand  that  these  payments 
must  soon  stop.  I  shall  rid  myself  of 
any  legal  claims  you  have  upon  me 
before  marrying  another  woman." 

"Oh,  I've  no  doubt  you'll  walk  strict 
ly  according  to  law !  You  will  not  run 
the  risk  of  a  lawsuit,  much  less  prosecu 
tion,  even  for  Miss  Swendon.  You  will 
have  no  trouble  in  gaining  your  freedom 
from  me,"  shrilly. 

"None  whatever,"  stripping  the  leaves 
from  a  willow  wand.  She  left  him  with 
out  a  word,  going  to  the  house. 

Mrs.  Wilde  had  just  summoned  her 
carriage.  "  Where  is  the  princess  ?" 
looking  lazily  around. 

"  Is  Madame  Trebizoff  a  guest  in  your 
house?"  asked  Jane  suddenly. 

"Yes." 

"  I  will  call  her.  I  have  something  to 
say  to  her." 

She  went  to  meet  her  with  the  grave 
motherly  firmness  with  which  she  would 
have  gone  to  give  a  scolding  to  black 
Buff  or  a  lazy  chambermaid.  The  prin 
cess,  crossing  the  grass,  slender,  dark, 
sparkling,  had  no  doubt  of  her  own 
smouldering  passionate  hate  against  her. 
It  was  the  proper  thing  for  Hagar  to  hate 
Sarah.  Life  was  thin  and  insipid  without 
great  remorses,  revenges,  loves.  The 
poor  little  creature  was  always  aiming  at 
them,  and  falling  short.  She  was  won 
dering  now  why  Jane  wore  no  jewelry. 
"Not  an  earring!  Not  a  hoop  on  her 
finger!  If  I  had  her  money  !"  glancing 
down  at  the  blaze  of  rubies  on  her  breast. 


They  met  under  a  clump  of  lilacs. 

"Stop  one  moment,"  said  Jane,  look 
ing  down  at  her  not  unkindly.  "You 
must  not  let  this  go  too  far,  you  know." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  The  princess 
fixed  her  eye  upon  her,  with  a  somewhat 
snaky  light  in  it.  Indeed,  when  she  as 
sumed  that  attitude  toward  Van  Ness  or 
any  other  man  she  could  frighten  and 
hold  him  at  bay  as  if  she  had  been  a 
cobra  about  to  strike.  But  the  lithe  dark 
body,  the  vivid  color,  the  beady  eye  only 
reminded  Jane  oddly  of  a  darting  little 
lizard,  and  tempted  her  to  laugh. 

"No.  You  really  must  keep  within 
bounds.  Because  I  have  my  eye  upon 
you.  I  can't  let  you  cheat  that  good 
soul,  who  brought  you  here,  to  her  dam 
age." 

The  princess  gasped  and  whitened  as 
though  a  cold  calm  hand  was  laid  on  her 
miserable  sham  of  a  body. 

"Do  you  know  who  I  am?"  stiffening 
herself  into  her  idea  of  regal  bearing. 

"  Not  exactly.  It  does  not  matter  in 
the  least,  either.  I  took  your  means  of 
earning  a  living  from  you  once,  you  told 
me,  and  I  don't  wish  to  do  it  again.  I 
will  not  interfere  as  long  as  you  hurt 
nobody." 

The  princess  stared  at  her  and  burst 
into  an  hysteric  laugh  :  "  I  believe,  in  my 
soul,  you  mean  just  what  you  say  !  You 
are  the  shrewdest  or  stupidest  woman  I 
ever  saw  !  Do  you  sympathize  with  me  ? 
Do  you  feel  for  me?"  tragically,  "or 
are  you  trying  to  worm  my  secret  from 
me?" 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other,"  coolly. 
"  I  know  your  secret.  You  are  no  spirit 
and  no  princess.  I  shall  pity  you  per 
haps  when  you  go  to  some  honest  work. 
Why,"  with  sudden  interest,  "  I  can  find 
steady  work  for  you  at  once.  A  stay- 
maker  in  the  village  told  me  the  other 
day — " 

"/  make  stays !" 

They  both  laughed.  Jane's  chief 
thought  probably  was  how  bony  and 
sickly  this  poor  woman  was :  her  own 
solid  white  limbs  seemed  selfish  to  her 
for  the  instant.  She  took  the  twitching, 
ringed  fingers  in  her  hand. 

"Play  out  your  own  play,"   she  said 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


61 


good-humoredly.  "You  will  not  hurt 
anybody  very  seriously,  I  fancy." 

They  walked  in  silence  to  the  house. 

The  princess  bent  forward  in  the  car 
riage-window  as  they  drove  away  to  look 
back  at  her.  "  I  wish  my  son  knew  such 
women  as  that!"  she  cried. 

"Son?"  said  the  startled  Mrs.  Wilde. 
"  You  have  not  spoken  before  to  me  of 
your  son,  madame." 

"  I  have  always  kept  him  under  tutors 
— at  Leipsic." 

She  leaned  back  as  they  drove  through 
the  sunshine,  her  filmy  handkerchief  to 
her  painted  eyes,  seeing  nothing  but  an 
ugly,  honest-faced  boy  hard  at  work  in 
a  bare  Presbyterian  chapel.  He  would 
never  know  nor  guess  the  life  of  shame 


which  his  mother  led !    Her  tears  were 
real  now. 

She  even  had  wild,  visionary  thoughts 
of  a  confession,  of  staymaking,  of  so 
many  dollars  a  week  regularly.  But 
she  remembered  the  time  when  some 
fussy,  good  women  had  put  her  in 
charge  of  a  fashionable  Kindergarten. 
There  was  a  fat  salary !  The  house  was 
luxurious  :  the  teachers  did  the  work. 
But  one  night  she  had  broken  the  fin 
ical  apparatus  to  pieces,  left  a  heap  of 
bonbons  for  the  children,  scrawled  a 
verse  of  good-bye  with  chalk  on  the 
blackboard,  and  taken  to  the  road  again 
without  a  penny. 


V. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  Hemlock  Farm  was  awake  to 
its  farthest  worm-eaten  old  fence. 
Never  since  its  trees  grew  or  its  grass  was 
green  had  such  a  breath  and  stir  of  de 
light  swept  through  them.  The  low  Oc 
tober  sun  reddened  the  stubble-field  and 
thrust  lances  of  light  through  the  dark 
ening  boles;  a  string  band,  hidden  some 
where,  as  evening  fell  sent  long  wafts 
of  music  through  meadow  and  woods ; 
everywhere  was  the  sound  of  children's 
voices  —  in  the  trees,  in  the  hay-mow, 
down  in  the  old-fashioned  rose-garden, 
up  in  the  dusty  garrets.  Boys  and  girls 
of  every  shape  and  size,  from  pale,  gray- 
eyed  midges  to  big,  beefy  hobbledehoys, 
beset  the  captain  at  every  turn.  With 
his  one  arm  and  his  uniform,  and  his 
gusty  delight  in  themselves,  and  the  back 
ground  of  this  marvellous  old  farm  and 
nut  trees,  he  was  a  hero  belonging  to  the 
family  of  Signer  Blitz  or  Kriss-Kringle. 
In  fact,  this  fea'st  offcasts  given  by  Miss 
Swendon  yet  lingers  in  the  memory  of 
its  guests  alongside  of  the  enchanted  gar 
den  of  figs. 

The  feast  had  grown  out  of  a  word. 
Miss  Swendon  had  talked  of  the  nuts 
going  to  waste,  and  Mrs.  Wilde  of  the 
hundreds  of  children  she  knew  "who  fan 
cied  nuts  grew  on  a  fruit-stand."  Jane's 
face  began  to  kindle.  "  Let  us  all  go  nut 
ting  with  them,"  she  said. 

So  it  easily  came  to  pass  —  with  tre 
mendous  exertions,  however,  on  the  part 
of  Judge  Rhodes  and  the  captain,  whose 
ideas,  vague  and  vast,  of  the  necessary 
amount  of  cake  and  ice-cream  doubled 
with  each  day. 

"Our  fear  in  Virginia  always  used  to 
be  that  we  should  not  have  enough," 
said  the  judge  in  solemn  consultation. 

"When  I  was  a  boy  I  never  did  have 
enough,"  rejoined  the  captain. 

The  Twiss  and  Nichols  children  were 

put  into  their  Sunday  finery  and  turned 

out,  their  jealous  mothers  watching  how 

the  city  children  treated  them,  Betty's 

62 


face  red  with  delight  as  she  announced 
to  Jane  that  they  were  "paler  and  more 
delicate  than  any  of  'em,  and  much  bet 
ter-looking."  Buff  and  his  father  grum 
bled  loudly  how  they  "  weren't  goin'  to 
let  one  of  dem  young  debbils  inter  de 
stable ;"  but  before  the  day  was  over 
even  gray  old  Dave  was  at  the  top  of 
every  nut  tree,  shouting  louder  than  any 
boy  of  ten.  As  for  Jane,  she  was  every 
where  :  she  climbed  trees  and  filled  all 
the  pockets,  told  no  end  of  stories,  laugh 
ed  at  the  least  jokes,  and  wiped  away  a 
hundred  sobbing  miseries. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  excitable," 
said  Mrs.  Wilde,  meeting  her  suddenly 
with  pink  cheeks  and  shining  eyes  on 
her  way  to  her  father. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  played  with 
young  people  before.  Did  you  ever 
know  such  a  happy  day?" 

Mr.  Van  Ness  came  out  in  the  after 
noon,  and  stood  in  odd  corners  beaming 
down  on  the  little  folk.  But  she  passed 
him  without  seeing  him,  as  she  might 
the  bronze  Buddha  shining  in  the  hall. 

"  Do  you  really  think  the  children  are 
having  a  good  time,  father  ?"  hanging 
on  his  arm.  "  Have  you  been  happy  all 
day  ?  Every  minute  ?" 

As  the  twilight  deepened  the  moon  came 
out  yellow  and  round ;  a  few  Chinese  lan 
terns  were  hung  in  the  mossy  crannies 
and  projections  of  the  old  house  ;  the  car 
riages  began  to  drive  away  with  the  hap 
py  children,  who  all  came  to  say  good 
bye  and  cling  about  her  with  that  wild 
fervor  which  children  give  to  a  new 
friend.  Jane  might  be  cold  and  slow  with 
grown  people,  but  she  hugged  these  lit 
tle  folks  as  if  she  were  mother  to  all  of 
them,  and  ran  to  hug  them  again  more 
closely,  and  could  not  keep  the  joyous 
tears  down  in  her  eyes  as  their  soft 
kisses  rained  on  her.  Some  of  their 
mothers  and  friends  had  come  to  thank 
the  beautiful  young  heiress  for  giving 
their  children  such  a  happy  day,  and 
they  stayed,  wandering  about  the  queer 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


old  house  and  the  illuminated  grounds  : 
they  were  the  very  people  whose  formal 
calls  Jane  had  forgotten  to  return.  But 
she  did  not  think  of  that :  she  only  saw 
that  they  were  quiet,  friendly  folk,  and 
that  her  father's  face  was  glowing  with 
hospitality  and  content.  The  band  struck 
up  a  waltz,  and  some  of  the  pretty  girls 
began  to  dance.on  the  grass.  Jane  stood 
apart  watching  them  thoughtfully :  her 
hands  were  folded  together.  This  couple 
who  floated  past  her  now  —  surely  they 
were  lovers.  What  a  magnificent  young 
fellow  he  was  !  She  caught  the  meaning 
of  his  eyes  bent  -on  the  sweet  fair  face. 
She  knew  that  little  girl  would  be  the 
best  wife  for  him  in  the  world.  She  was 
certain  that  she  loved  him  dearly. 

The  yellow  October  twilight  lingered 
warmly ;  even  the  cold  moon  glowed  in 
the  colored  haze  ;  the  darkening  woods, 
the  shadowy  house  on  the  hill,  the  laugh 
ing  dancers,  the  broad  river  at  the  foot 
of  the  slope,  were  softened  into  the  mel 
low  atmosphere  of  a  dream.  The  music 
was  faint,  a  single  fine  harmony  often  re 
peated. 

The  grave  girl  with  the  arched  white 
throat  who  stood  attentive  and  silent  un 
der  a  tree,  a  wolf-hound  beside  her,  her 
gown  of  some  soft  creamy  hue  belted 
about  her  waist  and  falling  in  heavy 
silken  folds,  was  to  the  visitors  the  most 
noticeable  point  in  the  picture.  Mr.  Van 
Ness,  a  few  yards  away,  waited,  hoping 
she  would  come  to  him.  But  Jane  saw 
only  the  sky  and  the  running  water  and 
the  lovers  who  passed  her  by.  "  There 
are  persons,"  said  Mr.  Van  Ness  suavely 
to  the  judge,  "who  are  like  children  or  ani 
mals.  No  intellectual  poise.  Good  weath 
er  or  a  little  amusement  throws  them  com 
pletely  off  their  balance." 

The  dog,  which  Jane  held  by  the  col 
lar,  began  to  pull  and  bark  joyfully. 
There  was  a  tall  dark  figure  coming  to 
ward  the  group  near  her  father.  Jane 
trembled  more  than  the  dog. 

"No,  you  must  not  bring  him  to  us, 
Bruno  :  he  doesn't  wish  to  come." 

He  did  not  come.  She  could  hear  a 
word  now  and  then.  Everybody  was  hur 
rying  to  greet  him.  How  had  he  been 
able  to  leave  his  post  ?  Would  this  new 


platform  save  the  country  ?  And  what 
would  the  Syndicate  do  in  view  of  this 
last  complication  ?  She  knew  he  was  the 
leader  of  the  Syndicate.  Great  leaders 
and  the  Syndicate  and  the  country, — all 
these  things  were  in  company. 

She  crept  back  out  of  sight  in  the 
bushes.  Bruno  broke  loose  and  ran 
toward  him.  She  went  down  to  the 
river. 

In  a  moment  Bruno  came  dashing 
back,  crunching  through  the  bushes. 
There  was  a  steady  step  on  the  grass. 

"Are  you  here,  Miss  Swendon?" 

"Yes." 

Any  of  the  finical  little  ladies  yonder, 
had  they  been  in  her  place,  would  have 
met  this  lover  who  gave  no  sign  of  love 
with  all  the  self-respect  and  dignity  of 
womanhood.  Not  unwooed  would  they 
be  won,  yet  every  resentful  word  or  tear 
that  drove  him  back  would  have  been 
alluring  and  maddening.  Honest  Jane 
went  straight  to  him  and  gave  him  her 
hand.  She  could  not  keep  the  hot  color 
from  her  face  or  the  water  from  her  eyes. 
She  had  told  him  once  that  she  loved 
him.  With  her,  done  was  done.  Death 
itself,  coming  between,  would  no£  give 
her  love  back  again. 

•  Mr.  Neckart  took  the  frank  hand  and 
let  it  fall.  "  I  came  to  you  for  this  one 
evening,"  he  said,  "  before — before  I  go. 
One  evening  surely  can  import  nothing. 
It  can  make  no  difference  to  you." 

Mr.  Neckart  was  a  fluent  speaker  in 
public :  he  had  been  used  to  talk  to  Jane 
by  the  hour  with  the  lazy  freedom  of 
thinking  aloud.  Now,  arguing  perhaps 
against  himself,  he  was  awkward  and 
stammered.  He  did  not  know  what  she 
answered,  or  if  she  answered  at  all. 

They  both  fell  into  silence.  For  months 
Neckart  had  looked  forward  to  this  su 
preme  moment  of  parting.  He  must  see 
her  once  more.  But  she  should  not  have 
a  glimpse  of  his  starved  soul.  He  would 
act  with  perfect  honorable  propriety.  A 
few  friendly  words,  one  look  to  carry  with 
him  until  death, — that  was  all.  He  did 
not  remember  now  that  it  was  a  supreme 
moment :  it  was  only  a  deliciously  happy 
one.  What  rare  fine  shades  of  meaning 
came  out  on  her  face  each  minute  !  The 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


absurd  downright  sincerity  of  the  girl 
too !  Surely  all  these  men  must  be 
mad  with  love  of  her  !  Where  had  she 
•discovered  that  wonder  of  a  dress  ?  Did 
other  women  ever  wear  such  garments  ? 
his  eyes  following  the  soft  slopes. 

As  for  the  young  woman  in  the  creamy 
robe,  she  was  filled  with  a  great  content. 
She  did  not  once  think  of  the  actual  in 
sanity  which  had  its  hold  upon  him.  She 
did  not  think  of  her  dying  father,  or  of 
Jane  Swendon's  crime,  or  of  Jane  Swen- 
don  at  all.  All  her  real  life  had  dropped 
out  of  her  memory.  There  was  left  the 
warm  air  and  the  happy  day  and  the 
music,  and  this  one  living  being  beside 
her.  His  hand  rested  on  the  bough  of  an 
apple  tree  :  she  could  see  on  his  palm  a 
peculiar  red  mark,  a  birth-mark,  which 
she  had  often  watched  darken  or  fade. 
She  never  thought  of  Neckart  without 
remembering  it.  But  why  she  should 
settle  into  a  great  content  at  the  sight 
of  this  mark,  which  was  in  no  wise  a 
beautiful  or  desirable  thing,  is  not  for  us 
to  say.  It  is  certain  that  as  soon  as  she 
saw  it  her  hold  on  life  became  quite 
secure,  and  the  world  righted  itself  in 
stantly. 

The  music  deepened,  it  filled  the  night ; 
warm  air  stirred  all  the  trees ;  a  robin 
chirped  in  its  nest  overhead.  The  lov 
ers  whom  Jane  had  watched  waltzed  past 
them.  Neckart  and  Jane  looked  after 
them.  Then  they  turned  to  each  other. 
After  all,  they  were  young :  life  that 
night  throbbed  high  as  it  had  never 
done  before. 

"  Come  with  me,"  he  said,  and  put  his 
arm  about  her  waist. 

He  had  danced  when  he  was  a  boy, 
and  had  since  seen  a  thousand  women 
waltz :  it  was  to  him  nothing  but  music 
and  a  pleasant  motion.  But  no  boy  or 
man  had  ever  danced  with  Jane  before 
or  touched  her.  It  was  to  her  her  wed 
ding-day. 

It  lasted  but  for  a  moment.  The  mu 
sic  stopped  and  left  them  standing  under 
the  pines,  the  spicy  smell  strong  in  the  air. 
When  Neckart  removed  his  hand  he  saw 
how  bloodless  and  grave  her  face  was. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  asked  you  to 
dance,  Jane.  But  it  will  be  something 


for  me  to  remember  as  long  as  I  live. 
And  men  are  selfish." 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  leave  me — now  ?" 

"  My  God !     I  don't  know  !" 

In  the  shadow  of  the  pines  he  could 
see  the  white  face  upturned  to  his.  He 
took  it  between  his  hands.  Why  should 
he  not  take  her  to  his  breast  and  dare 
his  fate  ?  Nothing  came  between  them 
but  that  shadow  of  honor. 

He  would  obey  it. 

She  would  forget  him  :  women  were 
shallower  than  men.  They  always  for 
got.  But  for  him  there  was  only  intol 
erable  solitude  to  the  end.  He  would 
meet  it,  although  he  had  come  back 
weakly  to  the  forbidden  fruit.  He  gloried 
in  the  consciousness  that  he  was  a  most 
heroic  martyr  as  he  stooped  and  kissed 
her  mouth  again  and  again. 

"  Neckart  !"  called  the  captain.  — 
"  Somebody  find  Bruce.  He  has  not  a 
minute  to  spare." 

Neckart  released  her.  "  I  must  make 
this  train,"  he  said.  "I  must  go  back  to 
the  office.  You  know  that  I  go  on  the 
steamer  that  sails  to-morrow." 

Trains  ?  Steamers  ?  With  these  kisses 
on  his  lips  ? 

"What  line  do  you  cross  in,  Bruce?" 
The  captain  had  hurried  down  with  the 
other  men.  "  Where  do  you  go  first  ?" 
as  they  walked  to  the  house. 

"To  France,  and  then  to  the  East," 
buttoning  his  coat  nervously,  without  a 
glance  toward  the  stunned  girl  beside 
him. 

"  Be  back  in  the  spring,  Mr.  Neck- 
art?"  said  a  lisping  young  lady. 

"Not  for  years.  At  least,  that  is  my 
present  intention." 

The  warmth,  the  happy  day,  music, 
love  that  had  filled  all  earth  and  heav 
en  but  now,  were  gone.  In  their  place 
the  gaslight,  trains,  conventional  talk  of 
duty! 

"Neckart" — she  heard  a  whisper  be 
hind  her — "goes  to  Russia  and  Turkey 
on  secret  business  for  the  government." 

The  kindly  old  judge,  seeing  Jane's 
face,  quietly  gave  her  a  chair  and  shel 
tered  her  from  notice.  If  Neckart  had 
waited  on  this  girl,  he  was  an  infernal 
scoundrel,  no  matter  what  his  political 


A   LAW  UXTO  HERSELF. 


rank.  He  knew  she  was  as  good  as  be 
trothed  to  Van  Ness. 

Jane  watched  all  these  brilliant  women 
flutter  around  Neckart,  giving  him  mes 
sages  to  their  friends  abroad.  His  cloak 
was  thrown  loosely  back  from  his  broad 
shoulders  :  he  bent  to  listen  to  them. 
She  knew  nothing  of  this  world  of  theirs. 
She  was  like  a  poor  limp  rag  of  human 
ity,  blown  aside  into  a  corner.  She  had 
her  fantastic  passion :  all  the  world  be 
sides  was  orderly,  moved  in  the  grooves 
of  common  sense  and  duty. 

Mr.  Neckart  looked  at  his  watch :  "  I 
must  really  go  now."  He  shook  hands 
with  Mrs.  Wilde,  giving  a  swift  glance 
to  the  corner  where  Jane  sat.  Waring 
and  his  attendant  young  ladies  closed  in 
on  him  with  more  last  words  and  purling 
laughter.  He  made  his  way  through 
them. 

"Good-bye!  good-bye!"  cried  the  cap 
tain,  wringing  his  hand.  "God  bless 
you,  Bruce !  \Vhat  is  it  ?  Jane  ?  Oh,  I'll 
make  your  adieux  to  her.  You'll  miss 
your  train." 

But  he  had  reached  her  at  last,  and  took 
her  hand  in  his,  all  the  world  looking  on  : 
"Good-bye,  Miss  Swendon." 

She  could  not  say  a  word.  They  all 
followed  him  out,  one  pretty  little  girl 
taking  off  her  slipper  to  throw  after  him. 
But  Jane  sat  alone  in  the  deserted  room, 
looking  at  the  door  through  which  the 
heavy  cloaked  figure  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

JAXE  was  roused  by  a  wild  shriek  from 
without.  She  thought  at  first  it  was  an 
animal  in  an  agony  of  pain  or  rage.  The 
wind  had  closed  the  door,  and  she  could 
not  open  it.  She  went  round  by  a  pas 
sage  to  reach  the  lawn.  While  she  had 
been  in  the  hall  a  scene  fit  for  a  melo 
drama  was  in  progress  without.  The  tiny 
black  Russian  landauletwith  three  ponies 
abreast  which  Madame  Trebizoff  usually 
drove  stood  a  few  paces  back  near  the 
woods.  In  the  centre  of  the  open  space, 
in  the  full  light  both  of  the  moon  and  the 
lights  from  the  house,  stood  the  princess, 
black  lace  draping  her  tragically,  rubies 
5 


flaming  in  her  jetty  hair,  and  a  blood- 
red  poppy  in  her  breast.  She  was  turn 
ing  from  one  group  of  men  to  another 
like  a  hunted  animal :  her  voice,  once 
let  loose  from  the  thin  smooth  level  on 
which  she  held  it,  squeaked  and  chat 
tered,  and  then  fell  into  doglike  growls 
and  sobs.  Mrs.  Wilde  stood  between 
her  and  a  burly  man  in  gray. 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  there  is  no  Ma 
dame  Varens  here.  This  is  an  English 
lady  and  my  guest.  My  guest !  You 
know  who  I  am  —  Mrs.  John  Schuyler 
Wilde." 

"  Very  sorry,  Mrs.  Wilde,  to  annoy  you, 
or  these  ladies,"  turning  to  the  group 
of  frightened  girls  to  whom  the  princess 
had  flown  for  succor.     She  looked  back 
from  their  midst  like  a  furious  crow  from 
out  of  a  covey  of  white  doves.     "  I  won't 
swear  that  her  name's  Varens.     She's 
down   in   the  description    also  as  Mrs; . 
Swift  and  Aurelia  Lamb.    Regular  confi 
dence-woman,  madam.     I  didn't  want  t& . 
follow  her  in  here.     Nobody  respects  la 
dies  as  are  ladies  more  than  I  do.     Now, 
ma'am,"   turning  to   Charlotte,  "you'd, 
better  come  quietly.    It's  nothing  serious. . 
A  few  hundreds.  Small  operation  for  you. 
Not  worth  disturbing  people  of  this  class," 
nodding  back  over  his  right  ear  as  he 
caught  her  by  the  arm. 

"  Class  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  This  is , 
my  class !"  shaking  him  back  as  if  he 
had  been  a  snake  and  tapping  her  breast 
as  she  lifted  herself  to  her  tiptoes.  "  My 
class!  Do  you  hear?  I  am  the  Princess 
Trebizoff.  I  have  witnesses. — Mr.  Van 
Ness!  Mr.  Van  Ness  is  here  to  speak 
for  me." 

"  Pliny  Van  Ness  ?"  said  the  awed  der 
tective.  "  If  Avouches  for  you,  ma'am — " 

Mr.  Van  Ness,  who  had  watched  the 
arrest  with  much  placidity,  was  sudden 
ly  left  by  the  withdrawal  of  the  crowd 
standing  alone  facing  the  detective  and 
his  prisoner.  He  stroked  his  blond 
beard  and  looked  down  at  her  with 
thoughtful  compassion. 

"Mr.  Van  Ness,"  she  said  shrilly,  ad 
vancing  a  step,  "I  am  in  danger  of  a 
jail.  Certify  for  me  that  I  am — your 
friend,  the  woman  whom  I  represent  my 
self  to  be." 


66 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEKSELF. 


"Of  course  any  friend  of  yours,  Mr. 
Van  Ness —  I  may  be  mistaken,"  inter 
jected  the  officer. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  officer,"  said  the  re 
former,  his  mellow  tones  full  of  pain. 
"But  this  lady — " 

"  Do  you  refuse  ?"  she  shrieked.  Then 
springing  up  to  him  and  thrusting  her 
face  in  his,  she  whispered,  "  For  Ted's 
sake !  I  am  your  child's  mother !  If  he 
should  find  me  in  jail !" 

"  I  was  about  to  say,  officer,"  calmly 
pursued  Mr.  Van  Ness,  "  that  this  lady 
is  unknown  to  me  except  as  a  casual 
acquaintance.  She  may  be  a  princess. 
Sne  may  be  a  thief.  That  is  for  you  to 
settle.  As  for  me — "  And  waving  his 
white  hands  and  shrugging  his  broad 
shoulders,  he  turned  away. 

The  princess  looked  after  him  steadily 
a  moment,  then  she  turned  to  the  men  : 
"Are  you  going  to  see  me  hauled  away 
to  prison  without  a  word  ?  I  am  a  wo 
man  !  An  Englishwoman !  This  is  Amer 
ican  justice !"  She  lifted  herself  again 
into  her  favorite  attitude  of  malediction, 
shaking  her  fingers  against  the  air  as  if 
scattering  curses. 

"Good  gracious!"  cried  Mr.  Waring. 
"  Why  !  why  !  Surely  I  have  seen  that 
done  before  ! — I  say,  judge  !  Don't  you 
remember?  The  medium  Combe?  The 
spirit — " 

"Come!"  said  the  officer  gruffly. 
"We've  had  enough  of  this.  Your 
friends  disown  you,  ma'am.  I'll  trou 
ble  you  to  step  down  to  the  hack — " 

It  was  then  that  the  poor  princess  gave 
the  despairing  shriek  which  'Jane  had 
heard.  Eluding  the  officer's  clutch,  she 
darted  across  the  open  space  and  faced 
them,  while  she  plunged  her  hand  into 
her  pocket  and  drew  out  a  vial  full  of  a 
dark  liquid.  There  was  a  cry  of  horror 
as  she  put  it  to  her  lips,  drained  it  and 
sank  to  the  ground. 

"Good  God!  she  has  taken  poison!" 
cried  the  captain. 

There  were  immediate  shouts  for  a 
doctor,  and  frantic  rushes  out  and  back 
again  on  the  part  of  Buff  and  Dave  and 
the  young  men,  who  wanted  to  scatter 
the  news,  but  were  afraid  something 
would  happen  while  they  were  gone. 


Mrs.  Wilde  came  up  to  her.  "  She  really 
is  an  impostor,  then  ?"  holding  out  her 
trembling  arms  to  take  her. 

"  Oh,  the  worst  kind  !  Dead-beat,  con 
fidence — as  much  lower  as  you  can  go. 
Don't  touch  her,  ma'am.  You'd  better 
take  them  young  ladies  away  too.  This 
isn't  the  sort  of  thing  for  them  to  see." 

"Certainly  not,"  running  off  like  a 
scared  hen  -  partridge. — "Come,  girls,  I 
will  take  you  home  at  once.  This  is  a 
phase  of  life  not  fit  for  you  to  look  into." 

But  she  could  not  drive  them  farther 
than  the  porch,  where  they  huddled,  pale, 
all  talking  at  once,  looking  back  and  de 
claring  it  was  as  exciting  as  any  tragedy, 
and  was  the  poor  creature  dead  ?  and  oh, 
to  think  they  had  all  called  on  her ! 

By  this  time  Jane  was  on  her  knees 
and  had  the  princess  in  her  arms.  "  Poor 
thing!  poor  thing!"  she  said.  Her  own 
heart  was  so  bruised  and  sore  that  she 
might  have  sobbed  over  this  other  wo 
man  if  she  had  had  nothing  else  to  do 
for  her. 

"Lay  her  down,  miss,  if  you  please. 
A  doctor's  been  sent  for.  She's  in  the 
hands  of  medicine  and  the  law." 

"  Father,  where  is  your  patent  stomach- 
pump  ?" 

"The  very  thing,  Jane  !"  dashing  into 
the  house. 

"May  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  her 
soul !"  said  Waring. 

"  Mr.  Waring,  are  you  there  ?  Help 
me  to  carry  her.  Into  my  room." 

"  Somewhere  else  !  Not  there  !"  ex 
claimed  the  judge. 

"  These  proceedings  are  very  irreg 
ular!"  blustered  the  officer.  "Accordin" 
to  New  York  law,  the  body  shouldn't  be 
touched  until  the  coroner  arrives." 

"  But  is  she  dead  ?"  interposed  Mr.  Van 
Ness,  bringing  the  little  procession  to  a 
full  halt.  "A  she  dead?  That  is  the 
question. — Allow  me.  Lay  her  on  this 
settee :  one  moment,  Miss  Swendon," 
prying  one  eyelid  open  and  bending  his 
ear  to  her  heart  with  an  air  of  judicial 
decision. 

"  Life,"  said  the  detective  ponderously, 
"  appears  to  have  become  extinct." 

Jane  pushed  back  the  hair  from  the 
lean  face.  "Perhaps,"  she  said,  "she 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEXSELF. 


has  a  child,"  and  then  stooped  and 
kissed  her  on  the  mouth. 

Van  Ness,  at  the  word,  paused  and 
looked  for  a  moment  sharply  from  one 
woman  to  the  other.  Then  with  a  sad 
smile  he  lifted  the  hand  which  clenched 
the  vial  tightly.  It  required  a  wrench  to 
remove  it.  He  uncorked  it  and  put  it  to 
his  tongue. 

"Prussic  acid!"  said  the  detective. 
"Strong  odor  of  peach-blossoms." 

"Give  me  space  one  moment,"  said 
Van  Ness  excitedly.  "There  is  a  chance 
of  saving  her  ! — Stand  back,  Miss  Svven- 
don." 

The  officer  and  Jane  drew  back  has 
tily.  He  stooped  and  -whispered  vehe 
mently  into  the  ear  of  the  dead  woman. 
She  opened  her  eyes,  sparkling  and  full 
of  malice,  stared  at  him  doubtfully,  then 
nodded.  The  captain,  a  physician  and 
a  dozen  other  aids  arrived  at  the  mo 
ment. 

"You  are  too  late,"  said  Van  Ness 
calmly,  meeting  them.  "Madame  Tre- 
bizoff  had  only  swooned.  She  is  willing 
to  go  with  the  officer. — Will  you  take  my 
arm,  Miss  Swendon  ?  You  are  faint,  I 
am  sure.  As  for  the  poison,"  lowering 
his  voice  as  he  bent  toward  her,  "it  was 
only  sweetened  water.  The  princess  has 
taken  it  before." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  steamer  began  to  cut  at  last 
through  the  short  curled  waves,  a  bit 
of  spray  blown  up  on  Neckart's  mouth 
was  salt,  and,  looking  back,  the  great 
congregation  of  ships  in  the  offing  had 
dwindled  to  a  few  black  spears  of  masts. 

It  was  done,  then  !  He  had  left  all  be 
hind  and  cut  loose,  finally  and  for  ever. 
He  was  glad  that  there  was  not  a  fa 
miliar  face  in  the  ship's  company.  The 
other  passengers,  looking  critically  at 
the  well  -  known  politician  as  he  paced 
up  and  down,  rated  him  as  a  keen,  vig 
orous  man  in  the  maturity  of  power, 
wholly  engrossed  in  affairs.  He  did  not 
once  think  of  the  affairs  of  his  own  or 
any  other  country :  he  knew  now  but 
one  fact  —  that  the  time  was  at  hand 


when  he  must  meet  the  fate  to  which  he 
had  looked  forward  so  long,  and  that  the 
sea  must  be  between  himself  and  Jane 
before  that  day  came.  But  he  was  not 
likely  to  give  any  hint  by  appearance 
or  words  that  this  matter  troubled  him. 
There  was  a  young  mother  with  her  first 
baby  near  him.  God  only  knows  what 
thoughts  of  Jane  were  in  his  mind  as  he 
looked  at  her.  But  he  stopped  to  talk 
with  her  husband,  who  spoke  to  him 
about  a  shoal  of  porpoises ;  and  after 
ward,  when  the  captain  inquired  if  health 
or  pleasure  took  him  from  home,  stated 
carelessly  that  it  was  a  cerebral  affec 
tion,  and  discussed  the  efficacy  of  some 
recommended  bromide. 

There  was  a  lady  sitting  alone  on  the 
deck,  a  dark -green  cloth  dress  belted 
neatly  about  a  jimp  figure,  and  cut 
short  enough  to  show  tight-laced  boots : 
a  close  fur  cap  tied  over  her  ears — an 
ugly  little  woman,  but  all  alive  and  ready 
for  action. 

Something  familiar  in  her  carriage  drew 
Neckart's  eye  to  her  a  second  time.  She 
nodded  and  smiled :  "  You  have  quite 
forgotten  me  ?" 

"  Miss  Fleming !  It  is  so  many  years 
since  I  saw  you  !  Or  ought  I  to  say  Miss 
Fleming?"  looking  about  for  her  com 
panion. 

She  laughed:  "I  am  quite  alone.  On 
the  ship,  and  everywhere  else,  for  that 
matter.  They  are  all  gone,  Mr.  Neck- 
art."  She  stopped  abruptly  and  turned 
her  head  away.  Cornelia  never  could 
speak  of  her  mother  without  choking. 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  Bruce  gently. 
"  It  is  long  since  I  was  at  the  homestead." 

"Yes,  there's  nobody  but  me,"  she 
said  presently  with  a  nervous  laugh.  "  I 
manage  to  support  myself  by  art.  It's 
poor  support,  and  poorer  art.  But  I  have 
scraped  together  enough  money  to  take 
me  to  Rome  to  make  it  better.  With 
shawl  -  straps  and  a  satchel  American 
women  can  go  anywhere,  you  know." 

"You  do  not  look  like  one  of  the  mod 
ern  Unas,"  glancing  down.  There  was, 
on  the  contrary,  a  singular  degree  of 
femininity  in  this  woman :  he  remem 
bered  now  how  it  used  to  impress  him 
as  a  boy.  In  the  crowds  that  had  filled 


68 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


his  later  years  Cornelia's  face  had  faded 
completely  out  of  his  mind.  It  began  to 
come  up  now  out  of  his  boyhood,  not  un 
pleasantly,  but  rather  with  much  of  the 
glamour  of  those  early  days  clinging  to  it. 
Yet  he  was  annoyed  that  any  old  remem 
brance  was  to  be  kept  awake  during  the 
voyage.  He  had  meant  to  make  it  a  lapse 
of  absolute  forgetfulness,  and  after  that — 
what?  "A  season  of  dreadful  looking- 
for  of  judgment,"  he  found  himself  re 
peating  as  he  talked  civilly  to  Cornelia 
about  the  color  of  the  water.  He  rose 
at  last,  being  under  such  a  nervous  strain 
that  he  could  not  keep  still. 

"  I  shall  go  and  beg  the  captain  to  give 
me  a  seat  next  yours  at  table,"  he  said 
smiling.  "  I  must  take  an  oversight  of 
you." 

"  Pray  do  not,"  she  said  anxiously,  lay 
ing  her  hand  on  his  sleeve.  "  I  will  not 
be  a  charge  on  anybody.  Why,  I  am 
as  independent  as  any — female  doctor ! 
Just  let  me  come  and  go  without  notice, 
and  if  ever  you  feel  like  talking  to  me, 
don't  think  of  me  as  a  young  lady,  but 
only  as  somebody  whom  you  used  to 
know  when  you  were  a  boy." 

Neckart  bowed  and  smiled.  There 
was  something  very  cordial  and  sweet 
in  the  little  speech.  Was  it  genuine  na 
ture  that  dictated  it  or  only  fine  tact  ?  In 
any  case,  he  was  glad  to  be  relieved  of 
the  duty  of  paying  petits  soins  to  any  wo 
man.  Of  course  he  would  not  neglect 
the  poor  creature,  who  appeared  to  be 
very  lonely,  and,  in  spite  of  her  gro 
tesque  little  swagger,  as  ill  able  to  stand 
alone  as  any  woman  he  had  ever  seen. 
He  glanced  at  the  homely  attractive  face 
looking  far  out  to  sea  when  he  turned  in 
his  walk.  The  second  time  he  caught 
her  looking  at  him  with  a  sadness  and 
hunger  in  her  eyes  that  drove  the  blood 
to  his  heart  like  a  blow.  What  was  that 
which  had  happened  between  them  when 
they  were  both  children?  A  love-affair? 
Absurd  !  It  was  impossible  that  any  sane 
woman  could  remember  such  folly.  With 
every  drop  of  blood  tingling  hot  within 
him  he  turned  down  the  deck  and  buried 
himself  in  the  crowd  in  the  cabin.  Why 
had  she  never  married  ?  But  what  did 
that  matter  to  him  ?  He  did  not  come 


near  her  at  the  table,  nor  join  her  dur 
ing  the  rest  of  the  day.  But  why  had 
she  never  married  ?  Could  it  have  been 
the  thought  of  him  which  had  kept  her 
aloof  and  solitary  all  her  life  ? 

Miss  Fleming  was  one  of  the  last  to 
forsake  the  deck  that  night.  She  was 
a  good  sailor,  and  not  likely  to  lose  any 
time  by  sickness.  "  I  can't  afford  to  lose 
any  time,"  she  said  to  herself,  her  lips 
making  a  thin  seam  across  her  face,  as 
she  sat  hour  after  hour  waiting  for  him 
to  return.  "What  I  do  must  be  done 
now  or  never."  She  had  taken  every 
penny  she  had  in  the  world  to  pay  for 
this  fortnight  in  the  ship  with  him. 

"  I  shall  succeed,"  rising,  her  thin 
cheeks  pale,  but  her  eyes  like  coals  of 
fire.  As  she  went  through  the  cabin  she 
scowled  at  the  pretty  young  girls,  who, 
like  the  birds  in  the  fable,  had  a  thou 
sand  lures  of  innocence  and  beauty  and 
plumage.  She  was  Reynard  with  his 
one  trick — friendship  and  whatever  she 
hid  behind  it.  "  But  I  never  failed  yet," 
she  said  as  she  shut  herself  into  the  dark 
ness  of  her  state-room. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  captain  reported  himself  "under 
the  weather"  the  day  after  the  nutting 
frolic.  His  guests  had  all  gone  except 
ing  Van  Ness,  who  remained  in  New 
York,  appearing  at  the  farm  every  after 
noon  with  a  fresh  invoice  of  diffusive 
sweetness  and  light.  In  a  week  the  cap 
tain  gave  up  his  daily  visit  to  the  club, 
and  one  morning  Jane  found  him  in  the 
work-room,  busy  again  among  the  dusty 
models,  with  a  gray  pinched  line  about 
his  jaws.  She  ran  to  put  on  her  apron, 
and  worked  with  him,  jesting  and  laugh 
ing,  but  as  soon  as  she  could  escape  sent 
Dave  to  the  doctor.  The  old  gentleman 
came,  chatted  a  while,  and  soon  followed 
Jane  out  to  the  hall. 

"  Florida  to-morrow  ?  Southern  Califor 
nia  ?  No,  not  now.  Let  him  have  home 
comforts  and  good  nursing  this  winter. 
Anything  he  wants  to  eat.  Humor  him 
as  much  as  you  choose." 

Jane  stood  holding  by  the  back  of  a 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


69 


chair :  "  You  do  not  mean  that  there  is 
danger  ?" 

"  I  see  no  change  in  the  symptoms," 
cautiously.  "We'll  try  the  new  prescrip 
tion  a  few  days,  and  we  shall  see  —  we 
shall  see." 

Jane  went  back  to  her  father  and  the 
models,  and  talked  calmly  of  screws  and 
pistons.  If  she  could  only  take  the  shak 
ing  old  gray  head  to  her  breast  and  cry 
her  heart  out !  If  she  could  lie  down  in 
the  grave  with  him  !  They  had  been 
such  friends  all  her  life  !  He  was  the 
only  friend  she  ever  had.  She  got  up 
and  ran  out  of  doors  once  or  twice  : 
her  breath  was  leaving  her :  his  face, 
with  the  strange  change  in  it,  drove  her 
away.  Outside,  the  ducks  were  wabbling 
in  and  out  of  the  pond,  the  sun  was  shin 
ing,  the  chrysanthemums  and  crimson 
prince's  feather  were  all  in  flower.  Dave 
was  currying  a  horse  in  the  stable-yard 
and  whistling  a  dancing  tune.  What  a 
foolish  fright  she  had  been  in !  Every 
thing  in  the  world  was  going  just  as  usual. 
When  she  went  back,  too,  the  captain 
was  pulling  out  his  patent  scissors  from 
a  drawer,  laughing,  his  face  flushed.  He 
never  looked  better  in  his  life. 

She  never  left  him  after  that.  She 
had  a  couch  made  for  herself  at  his  door, 
that  she  might  hear  the  moment  that  he 
stirred  in  the  night.  She  could  see  no 
change  in  him  from  day  to  day,  but  she 
watched  everybody  keenly  who  came 
near  him,  trying  to  read  their  opinion 
of  him  in  their  faces.  She  fancied  there 
was  a  difference  in  the  manner  of  even 
Dave  and  Buff  to  him  —  a  forced  jocu 
larity,  a  peculiar  tenderness  of  voice. 
Bruno,  she  observed,  had  deserted  her 
altogether  and  kept  close  to  his  master. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Mr.  Van  Ness 
began  to  monopolize  the  house :  the  very 
air  of  it  grew  bland  and  decorous.  He 
came  early,  and  stayed  until  night.  The 
captain  treated  him  with  reverential  def 
erence  :  Jane  fell  into  the  same  habit. 
She  was  weak  and  suasible  as  a  reed  just 
now.  She  had  lost  all  root  and  marrow 
out  of  her  life.  Every  day  her  father 
dilated  on  Mr.  Van  Ness's  virtues.  She 
could  not  deny  one  of  them.  They  be 
gan  to  fence  her  in  as  with  smooth  polish 


ed  walls,  with  no  breath  inside.  Bruno, 
alone  inexorable,  never  allowed  him  to 
pass  without  a  snap  and  growl,  although 
he  had  yielded  enough  to  the  pressure  of 
public  opinion  not  to  fly  at  his  throat. 

"Mr.  Van  Ness,  my  dear,"  said  the 
captain  one  day,  "  has  been  good  enough 
to  look  into  the  affairs  of  the  farm.  He 
says  the  income  from  it  should  be  trebled. 
Ask  his  advice,  Jane.  Especially  as  to 
turnips.  We  failed  there.  What  intel 
lectual  scope  that  man  has  !  It  grasps  a 
vast  theory  one  moment  and  the  minutest 
detail  the  next." 

"Yes,  father."  It  mattered  little  to 
Jane  who  meddled  with  the  farm  now. 

"Mr.  Van  Ness"  —  the  next  day  — 
"was  glancing  over  your  book-shelves 
this  morning,  Jane.  A  course  of  read 
ing  such  as  he  would  dictate  would  be 
of  immeasurable  benefit  to  you." 

"  I  know  it,"  humbly.  "  I  am  shame 
fully  ignorant." 

"  Why  not  put  yourself  wholly  into  his 
care,  Jenny  ?"  taking  her  hand  tenderly. 
"  He  is  one  of  the  best  of  men." 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  candidly. 

At  this  moment  the  reformer  came  in 
sight  on  the  lawn  without,  the  full  sun 
shine  falling  on  him.  They  both  looked 
at  him. 

"  His  intellect  is  of  a  high  calibre,  Jen 
ny  :  he  saw  into  that  idea  of  mine  for  the 
gauge  to-day  in  an  instant." 

Jane  nodded  dully. 

"And  as  for  looks — have  you  any  fault 
to  find  with  him,  Jane  ?" 

"No,  none." 

"Then,  in  God's  name,  why — "  He 
checked  himself.  "  Mr.  Van  Ness  asked 
me  to  speak  with  you  this  afternoon.  It's 
a  very  solemn  matter,  Jenny.  It's  for  life. 
You  know  what  I  wish.  Don't  shove  off 
your  life's  happiness  for  a  prejudice  of  no 
more  weight  than  so  much  fog.  I  think 
I'll  lie  down  and  sleep  a  while.  Think 
the  matter  over.  There  he  is  outside. 
He  wishes  to  talk  to  you  of  it  now." 

Jane  lingered,  tucked  the  cover  over 
his  feet  again  and  again.  She  could  not 
go  out  and  talk  to  this  man  in  cold  blood 
of  marriage.  When  she  told  him  that  it 
could  not  be,  that  she  could  not  love  him, 
what  reason  could  she  give  ?  She  had 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


no  reason.  There  was  none.  This  hus 
band  waiting  out  on  the  gravel-path,  and 
smiling  in  on  her,  was  in  every  way  ad 
mirable  and  lovable.  But  Bruno  and 
old  Dave  were  better  comrades  for  her 
— nearer  kinsfolk. 

The  captain  opened  his  eyes  drowsily  : 
"You  are  going  to  read?  That's  right, 
Jenny." 

She  brought  the  book  gladly,  and  Mr. 
Van  Ness  moved  disappointed  away. 
There  were  certain  chapters  in  St.  John 
which  the  old  man  himself  had  taught 
Jane.  Her  mother  had  little  to  do  with 
the  Bible,  which  she  declared  was  full 
of  Presbyterian  bigotry,  but  the  captain, 
who  was  at  bottom  a  devout  soul,  had 
anxiously  tried  to  give  the  child  as  soon 
as  she  could  speak  what  he  supposed  to 
be  the  milk  of  the  Word.  Every  day 
now  she  would  hear  him  muttering  to 
himself  these  passages  from  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  or  in  John's  Gospel,  and 
he  would  presently  call  on  her  to  repeat 
them,  explaining  them  to  her  as  though 
she  were  still  a  child. 

"We  got  away  from  the  Master  as  we 
grew  older,  Jenny  :  that  was  the  mis 
take,"  he  said  now,  stroking  her  hair  as 
she  kneeled  by  the  bed.  "  I  ought  to 
have  kept  you  close  by  Him.  But  you 
see  the  patents  and  the  other  worries — 
It's  all  been  so  hurried — I've  hardly  be 
gun  fairly.  But  we'll  try  and  do  what's 
right  now.  There's  plenty  of  time  before 
us." 

"  Oh,  father !"  She  buried  her  head  on 
his  breast. 

"  If  I've  done  wrong  to  any  man,  I'd 
like  to  have  his  forgiveness  and  to  make 
restitution.  Restitution"  —  the  captain 
said,  talking  into  the  vague  space  which 
widened  slowly  about  him  every  day. 
Jane,  holding  his  shaking  old  hand, 
groped,  as  every  other  human  soul  in 
pain  does,  to  find  this  Master. 

She  had  but  little  faith  then :  like  all 
other  feelings,  it  would  probably  come 
slowly  into  her  slow  nature  and  abide 
there.  But  could  He  come  close  as  her  fa 
ther  said  ?  She  was  so  utterly  alone  !  She 
would  be  glad  to  make  restitution,  though 
the  money  had  been  her  own,  if  that  would 
please  Him.  But  restitution  to  whom  ? 


"  Go  now  :  I  want  to  sleep.  Mr.  Van 
Ness  is  waiting."  She  moved  to  the 
door:  "Jenny,  you'll  say  what  is  right 
to  him.  I  trust  you." 

Mr.  Van  Ness  did  wait  at  the  door  of 
the  conservatory.  His  white  hand  was 
held  out,  as  if  to  lead  her  into  perfume 
and  light.  Was  it  this  which  He  would 
order  her  to  do  ?  \Vas  it  ?  The  very 
touch  of  his  hand  seemed  to  her  an 
indecency. 

"  Miss  Swendon — "  Van  Ness  began 
abruptly,  in  so  rough  and  candid  a  tone 
that  Jane  looked  at  him  startled  and  re 
spectful — "you  are  prejudiced  against 
me.  I  see  that  my  manner  impresses 
you  as  artificial.  It  is  so,  and  I  know  it. 
I  wish  to  account  to  you  for  that  before 
I  open  my  business  to  you."  He  passed 
his  soft  fingers  slightly  down  the  fold  of 
his  shirt,  opened  his  thick  red  lips  once 
or  twice  and  shut  them  again,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  her  own,  probing,  gauging  her. 
"  I  must  give  you  the  keynote  to  my 
whole  life,"  he  resumed.  "You  were 
born  among  people  of  culture  and  gen 
tle  habits.  I  was  a  foundling,  the  child 
of  vice,  reared  in  it,  fed  by  it,  until  I  was 
old  enough  to  stand  by  myself.  Then  I 
swore  by  God's  help  to  leave  it  behind 
me  for  ever.  I  have  struggled-  on  this 
far.  It  has  been  hard  work.  That  is 
all,"  with  a  long  breath.  "You  know 
what  I  am  now.  I  wanted  you  to  know 
precisely  what  I  have  been." 

It  was  unwomanly  not  to  make  a 
friendly  sign  to  the  man  who  had  thus 
frankly  humiliated  himself  before  her. 
Jane  forced  herself  to  speak : 

"You  are  very  sincere — more  sincere 
than  is  necessary.  But  I  respect  you  for 
it." 

"  You  can  understand  now  why  my 
manners  and  voice  bear  the  evident 
marks  of  training.  They  both  have  an 
artificial  twang  which  has  prejudiced  you 
against  me.  Am  I  right?" 

"  Possibly  you  are  right,"  said  down 
right  Jane.  "If  it  was  only  the  manner 
and  voice,  I  have  been  unjust  to  you." 

He  waved  his  hand  with  humble 
deprecation,  and  sighed  audibly.  Jane 
moved  restlessly.  No  exhibition  of  cha 
racter  could  be  more  noble  or  genuine : 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


nothing  could  be  more  winning  than  the 
handsome  blond  head  between  her  and 
the  shelves  of  flowers.  This  senseless 
antipathy  which  she  felt  to  both  was 
that  of  an  animal.  She  was  ashamed  of 
it,  and  stood  smiling,  her  head  bent  with 
clumsy  politeness,  and  the  same  look  in 
her  eyes  which  Bruno  gave  him. 

"You  will  understand  now,  too,"  he 
continued  gently,  "why  my  interest  in 
vicious  and  hungry  children  is  so  deep. 
I  have  been  one  of  them.  It  is  little  for 
me  to  have  given  my  life  to  help  them." 

"  It  must  be  a  comfort  to  give  your  life 
to  any  certain  work,"  cried  Jane  hotly. 
"  It's  very  hard  to  reach  middle  age,  as 
I  have  done,  and  find  one's  self  fit  for 
nothing!  Nothing  whatever!" 

Mr.  Van  Ness  did  not  at  once  reply. 
He  scanned  her  curiously,  as  he  might  a 
tool  about  whose  temper  he  was  not  cer 
tain,  but  which  it  was  necessary  for  him 
to  use. 

"Your  father  has  told  you  my  reason 
for  wishing  to  speak  to  you  to-day  ?"  he 
said  abruptly. 

Jane's  head  and  very  throat  were  scar 
let:  "Yes.  But  we  will  not  talk  at  all 
of  that  matter,  Mr.  Van  Ness,"  stam 
mering  with  haste.  "  It  is  impossible, 
unnatural.  You  are  more  experienced 
than  I :  you  must  see  that  it  is  impos 
sible  more  clearly  than  I  do." 

"  In  hoping,"  he  resumed,  after  calmly 
dropping  his  light  eyelashes  while  she 
spoke,  politely  attentive,  "in  anxiously 
striving,  I  may  say,  to  gain  you  as  my 
wife,  I  did  not  intend  to  give  up  the  cause 
of  the  orphan  and  the  fatherless." 

"Oh  you  ought  not  to  give  it  up!  It 
would  be  really  criminal !  After  you 
have  gone  so  far!  And  I  should  be  no 
help  to  you  at  all,"  she  added  breath 
lessly. 

"But,"  with  his  light  confusing  gaze 
full  on  her,  "you  know,  to  speak  plain 
English,  that  your  father  on  his  death 
bed  desires  that  you  shall  marry  me?" 

The  blood  came  and  rushed  back  from 
Jane's  face,  leaving  it  colorless. 

"Why  will  you  not  grant  this  last 
wish  ?" 

Why  ?  There  was  no  reason  why  she 
should  not.  She  was  dear  to  nobody 


else  in  the  world  than  this  old  man- 
she  was  of  use  to  nobody  else.  To  no 
body.  She  looked  for  some  time  di 
rectly  into  the  shallow  eyes  facing  her 
with  aggressive  complaisance.  "  I  can 
not  do  it,"  she  said  at  last.  She  seemed 
to  have  grown  stolid  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Why  ?  What  is  this  bar  between  us  ?" 
coming  a  step  closer. 

"How  can  I  tell?"  with  a  nervous 
shudder.  "  If  I  lived  with  you  as  your 
wife  for  years,  you  would  be  none  the 
less  a  stranger  to  me." 

"  Miss  Swendon,"  suddenly,  and  with 
the  indulgent  smile  which  he  would  have 
given  to  a  child,  "I  will  not  accept  such 
an  answer.  Take  time.  Consider  the 
matter  calmly.  You  speak  rashly  now. 
You  have  not  a  single  reason  to  give  for 
your  decision." 

"  No,"  said  Jane  quietly.  "  But  I  shall 
not  alter  it." 

"This  woman,"  thought  Van  Ness,  "  is 
all  mule."  But  he  went  on  blandly  :  "In 
any  other  case  the  fact  that  you  were  pos 
sessed  of  large  means  and  that  I  am  al 
most  penniless  would  have  deterred  me 
from  approaching  you  in  this  way — " 

"  The  money  counts  for  nothing  with 
me,"  quickly. 

"  I  know  that.  I  know  that  if  you  were 
my  wife  your  generous  nature  would  re 
joice  in  giving  it  to  me  in  furtherance 
of  my  great  work.  In  fact — "  He 
stopped,  measured  her  again  with  the 
same  hesitating  inspection,  and  then, 
while  Jane  listened  intently,  proceeded: 
"To  be  quite  candid,  Miss  Swendon,  but 
for  a  sudden  and  most  unexpected  change 
in  Mr.  Laidley's  disposition  on  the  last 
day  of  his  life,  my  Home  for  Friendless 
Children  would  have  been  made  a  cer 
tainty  without  your  aid." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"The  will,"  deliberately,  "which  he 
made  but  a  week  before  his  death  left 
his  whole  property  intact  to  me  as  trus 
tee  for  this  charity.  You  know  that  he 
changed  his  mind  and  destroyed  this  will 
apparently  in  the  very  act  of  dying,  and 
gave  it  to  you.  I  am  rejoiced  that  he 
did  so :  be  assured  of  that.  But  if  it 
should  come  back,  after  all,  to  the  Home, 
and  you  with  it  as  a  helper,  there  would 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


be  a  fine  poetic  justice  in  that,  I  think," 
with  a  pleased  gurgle  in  his  throat. 

Mr.  Van  Ness  had  always  regarded 
Jane  as  a  young,  insignificant -looking 
girl.  But  now,  for  some  strange  reason, 
she  impressed  him  as  a  middle-aged, 
powerful  woman. 

"So  you  were  the  heir?" 

"Yes.  Or  the  Home,  to  be  exact — 
the  Home." 

Jane  raised  her  arms  and  clasped  her 
hands  over  her  head.  She  said  at  last : 
"  The  money  is  mine.  It  was  mine  when 
William  Laidley  gave  it  to  you.  I  will 
keep  it  as  long  as  my  father  lives.  As 
soon  as  he  is  dead  I  shall  give  it  to  you. 
I  shall  be  glad  to  give  it  up — glad." 
Her  arms  fell  to  her  side :  a  great  relief 
came  slowly  into  her  face. 

At  last  the  burden  was  to  fall  off.  The 
way  before  her  was  simple  and  clear. 

Mr.  Van  Ness  laughed  with  keen 
amusement,  but  checked  himself  with 
an  apologetic  cough  :  "  Forgive  me,  but 
really,  Miss  Swendon,  you  are  so  incred 
ibly  innocent !  A  mere  baby  in  your 
knowledge  of  the  world  or  ordinary  cus 
toms.  It  would  be  impossible  for  you  to 
make  such  a  transfer.  You  could  not 
give  the  estate,  and  I  could  not  take  it, 
unless  upon  one  condition." 

"What  is  that?" 

"That  you  give  it  as  my  wife." 

"There  is  no  other  way,"  he  resumed 
after  a  pause,  finding  that  she  made  no 
reply.  "Of course,"  with  a  bitter  laugh, 
"  I  do  not  expect  your  zeal  in  behalf  of 
the  friendless  children  to  tempt  you  to  so 
repugnant  a  step  as  marriage  with  me. 
But  that  is  the  only  way  in  which  this 
property  could  be  restored  to  them." 

Still  she  was  silent.  A  pot  with  a  half- 
dead  geranium  was  near  her :  she  began 
to  break  off  the  yellow  leaves  and  lay 
them  in  a  neat  little  heap  one  by  one. 
Did  Van  Ness  suspect  the  truth  ?  He 
stood  erect,  regarding  her  from  calm 
heights  of  virtue.  Presently  he  con 
tinued:  "The  property,  as  you  say,  is 
legally  your  own.  The  tenor  of  the 
will  makes  it  so.  But  when  I  think  of 
the  starved  bodies  and  souls  of  these 
poor  children,  and  remember  how  little 
jou  value  your  great  wealth,  I  feel  that 


surely  God  meant  it  for  them.  It  was 
some  strange  mistake  that  took  it  from 
them." 

Jane  did  not  meet  his  eye.  She  pushed 
open  the  little  door,  and  went  out  hur 
riedly  into  the  fresh  air.  Van  Ness  fol 
lowed  her.  It  is  not  probable  that  he 
had  guessed  her  secret,  but  he  certainly 
knew  that  for  some  reason  this  fact  of 
the  lost  will  had  given  him  an  inflexible 
hold  upon  the  jaded,  fluttering  woman. 
He  meant  to  press  it  with  peremptory 
force. 

The  wind  without  was  blowing  keen 
and  cold.  Jane  rallied  in  it.  She  turned 
to  Van  Ness  with  something  of  her  ordi 
nary  courage.  She  was  absolutely  cer 
tain  of  her  own  honesty,  and  she  hoped 
that  God  believed  in  it.  What  did  it 
matter  if  by  the  laws  of  men  and  society 
she  was  a  thief?  It  was  some  time  be 
fore  she  caught  the  meaning  of  Van 
Ness's  words.  He  was  urging  his  cause 
with  a  surfeit  of  honeyed  and  long-con 
ned  phrases.  He  remembered  as  he 
talked  how  many  women  would  receive 
any  hint  of  courtship  from  him  with  de 
light,  and  the  consciousness  gave  him  a 
factitious  dignity.  He  walked  beside  her 
down  the  path.  Bruno,  who  leaped  the 
barnyard  fence  to  join  her,  marched  on 
the  other  side,  fixing  a  red  suspicious 
eye  on  him. 

"  I  have  not  made  love  to  you  as  a 
younger  man  would  do.  I  never  have 
told  you  how  different  from  every  wo 
man  you  are  in  my  eyes.  How  attrac 
tive —  how  fair — "  His  eyes  rested  on 
hers  for  a  full  silent  moment.  She 
turned  away  with  a  shiver.  "  I  never 
have  told  you  how  dear  you  are  to  me. 
But  you  must  have  seen  it.  * 

"  No,  I  did  not  see  it,"  said  Jane  blunt 
ly.  "  But  what  has  my  beauty  to  do  with 
the  matter  ?  Or  your  love  ?  They  do  not 
alter  you  or  me." 

Even  Van  Ness  was  stunned  by  this 
calm  delivery  of  fact.  He  recovered  him 
self  presently,  and  with  a  smile  of  hurt 
feeling  gently  replied,  "Your  antipathies 
are  strong,  Miss  Swendon.  Most  women 
would  cover  them  over  courteously.  But, 
do  you  know,  I  really  like  your  hon 
esty,"  pointing  the  tips  of  his  fingers 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


73 


together  mildly.  "Yes,  I  do.  Now  I 
shall  not  urge  myself  personally  on  your 
notice  any  more.  I  did  not  seek  an  im 
mediate  marriage.  I  am  willing  that 
time  should  work  for  me.  Promise  me 
this,"  halting  and  suddenly  facing  her; 
"  look  at  me  as  the  representative  of 
those  poor  friendless  children  whom  I 
love  so  dearly,  and  whose  inheritance 
you  now  enjoy."  (He  saw  and  took 
note  of  the  sudden  quailing  of  her  whole 
bearing.)  "You  will  give  your  wealth  to 
them  some  day." 

"  God  knows  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  that." 

"And  yourself  to  me." 

"Never!"  she  said  quietly.  But  she 
smiled  politely  in  his  face.  All  the  cur 
rents  of  her  future  life  were  ebbing  from 
this  half  hour  of  time,  and  she  knew  it ; 
yet  that  little  taunt  at  her  discourtesy  had 
galled  her  sorely.  Since  she  was  a  child 
she  had  felt  herself  and  her  rugged  talk 
big  and  boorish  and  coarse-grained  be 
side  the  polished  complaisance  of  small 
er  women.  When  Van  Ness,  therefore, 
took  her  hand  now,  and,  after  kissing  the 
thin  fingers  with  his  slow  sultry  glance, 
drew  them  within  his  arm  and  held  them 
there  close,  she  did  not  resist,  and  walk 
ed  patiently  beside  him  down  the  path. 
Van  Ness's  hand,  as  we  have  said,  was 
unpleasantly  cold  and  clammy. 

Jane  remembered  a  story  in  her  prim 
er  of  the  little  princess,  who,  having  told 
a  lie,  was  given  over  thereafter  to  the 
ownership  of  a  frog.  It  sat  on  her  plate, 
on  her  lap,  on  her  bed,  on  her  mouth  as 
she  tried  to  pray.  It  never  left  her.  It 
was  her  master  and  owner. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

As  they  turned  into  another  path,  Jane 
saw  the  boy  Phil  running  toward  the  sta 
bles,  and  Betty  came  toward  her,  walk 
ing  calmly,  but  twisting  her  sleeve  into  a 
rag  with  nervous  fingers. 

"  My  father !"  cried  Jane. 

"  Yes.  He's  awake,  and  he  don't  seem 
quite  so  peart  as  he  was  this  morning.  But 
it's  nothing :  don't  you  be  scared,  miss. 
I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  Phil  for  the 
doctor,"  panting  after  her  as  she  ran. 


Van  Ness  quickened  his  pace  and  fol 
lowed. 

The  captain  was  in  his  arm  -  chair, 
wrapped  in  his  flowered  dressing-gown. 
Buff  and  Dave  were  busy  over  him,  their 
black  lips  turning  blue  with  fright. 

"No,  I'll  not  go  to  bed  !"  he  cried  tes 
tily.  "What  good  will  blankets  and  feath 
ers  be  to  me  ?  It's  death,  you  blockhead ! 
But  don't  tell  her — don't  tell  Miss  Jane." 

"Hyah  she  is,  sah." 

"Keep  her  out!  —  Oh,  Jenny!  Go, 
finish  your  walk.  I — I'm  very  well,  and 
I'd  rather  be  alone  a  while.  Dave  will 
stay  with  me,"  looking  helplessly  up  into 
her  white  face.  Then  he  broke  down 
and  fumbled  for  her  hand:  "Oh,  I'm 
going — I'm  going,  Jenny." 

"  No,  no,  father,  you  shall  not  go.  It's 
just  a  passing  pain.  Swallow  this,"  hold 
ing  the  gray  head  close  to  her  breast. 
Her  hand  shook  so  that  she  could  not 
put  the  spoon  to  his  lips. 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  away,  child.  It 
will  worry  you  so.  I  never  meant  you  to 
be  with  me  when  It  came." 

She  could  not  answer.  She  laid  him 
down,  drenched  his  hands  with  camphor, 
seeing  how  blue  and  sunken  they  were. 
"His  feet  are  like  ice,  Betty,"  she  cried. 
"What  shall  I  do?  what  shall  I  do?" 

"  I've  got  mustard  draughts  here, 
ma'am.  Try  and  get  him  to  take  these 
drops." 

"Yes,  yes.  Don't  go  out  of  the  room, 
dear  Betty !  Don't  leave  him."  She 
caught  hold  of  this  savior  who  was  wise 
in  mustard  draughts  and  tonics.  Why 
had  she  never  learned  such  things  in 
all  her  long,  useless  life  ?  She  would  not 
look  beyond  the  blue  marks  on  his  hands 
and  the  cold  of  his  feet.  She  and  Betty 
could  fight  them  until  the  doctor  came 
— just  as  the  wrecked  man  sees  only  the 
floating  logs  and  the  raft,  and  will  not 
look  below  at  the  unfathomable  black 
sea  waiting  for  him. 

"  'Pears  to  me,  Miss  Jane,"  said  Dave 
presently  in  a  pitying  whisper,  "  as  dat  ar 
camphire  on'y  vexes  him.  His  bref  is 
mos'  gone." 

"Whah  de  debbil  am  dat  doctor?" 
muttered  Buff,  going  to  the  door,  with  a 
thrill  of  terror  at  his  oath.  For  in  the 


74 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEXSELF. 


last  moment  the  approach  of  an  awful 
Power  was  felt  in  the  commonplace  lit 
tle  room.  Yet  the  afternoon  sunshine 
shone  as  before  in  the  open  door,  the 
green  curtains  waved  to  and  fro,  a  chick 
en  came  pecking  up  on  to  the  wooden 
steps.  The  captain's  feeble  glance  wan 
dered  to  it. 

"  The  gate  of  the  poultry-yard  is  bro 
ken,  Dave.  —  Remind  me  to-morrow, 
Jane — my  new  lock." 

"  De  Lohd  sabe  us !  Can't  you  take 
his  mind  off  his  patents,  Miss  Jane,  an' 
Death  jes'  at  -hand  ?" 

"  I  told  Phil  to  bring  the  minister  with 
the  doctor,"  whispered  Betty.  She  took 
the  useless  mustard  away  from  the  poor 
old  feet  and  covered  them  reverently. 
They  would  never  feel  any  touch  again. 
Then  she  and  Dave  drew  away  from 
him,  and  stood  back  from  the  chair, 
leaving  him  alone  with  his  child. 

Jane  knelt,  holding  him  by  the  hand, 
looking  into  the  dimming  eyes.  "  Fa 
ther !"  she  said.  "You  must  not  go.  You 
shall  not  leave  me  !  Father !" 

The  old  man's  soul,  as  always  irreso 
lute,  halted  at  the  call,  going  out  to  its 
long  journey  :  "  I  will  not  leave  you  un 
til  I  have  taken  care  of  you,  Jenny,"  try 
ing  to  smile  at  her. 

"And  how  are  you,  my  dear  sir?" 
said  a  mellow  voice  behind  her.  "Feel 
ing  better,  are  we  now — eh  ?" 

"Van  Ness?  Yes."  The  captain's 
voice  gathered  a  little  of  its  old  author 
ity,  and  he  struggled  to  rise.  "  Is  it  all 
settled?  Have  you  promised  to  marry 
him,  Jenny  ?" 

"She  will!  she  will!"  replied  Van 
Ness  hastily.  "  It  will  be  arranged  as 
you  wish,  my  dear  sir." 

"  I  must  be  sure  of  it,"  uneasily,  with 
the  restlessness  of  coming  death  and 
the  old  desire  to  control.  "  I  cannot 
go  until  I  see  you  his  wife,  Jane." 

Jane  held  his  hand  immovable.  She 
did  not  stir  nor  show  any  feeling  more 
than  the  wooden  plank  on  which  she 
kneeled. 

There  was  a  slight  stir  at  the  door. 
Doctor  Knox  came  in  with  Mr.  Lam- 
pret,  the  meek  little  Methodist  minister 
from  the  village.  The  doctor  went  up  to 


the  captain,  who  waved  him  impatiently 
aside. 

"  Too  late,  doctor.  Your  occupation's 
gone.  I  have  a  matter  to  arrange,  and— 
only  a  few  minutes." 

Jane  raised  her  head,  looking  dully  at 
the  physician. 

He  shook  his  head.  "There  is  no 
chance,"  he  said.  As  he  drew  back  he 
watched  the  girl,  rather  than  the  dying 
man.  He  was  used  to  seeing  women 
suffer,  but  he  felt  an  unwonted  pity  for 
this  friendless  Jane. 

The  captain  beckoned  feebly  to  Mr. 
Lampret:  "I'm  glad  to  see  you  here. — 
Now — Van  Ness — now.  I  can  give  her 
to  you.  I  can  die  in  peace." 

Van  Ness's  color  changed,  perhaps 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  He  stood 
irresolute.  He  had  not  thought  of  im 
mediate  marriage  with  Jane.  He  scan 
ned  in  that  instant  the  danger  involved 
in  it — the  probability  that  Charlotte  would 
"make  trouble"  —  the  chance  of  buying 
her  off.  The  actual  risk  involved  was 
great  enough  to  make  even  his  ruddy 
face  ghastly. 

But  if  he  allowed  this  chance  to  escape 
he  would  never  regain  his  hold  on  her. 
Was  this  property  twice  to  slip  from  his 
grasp?  He  took  a  step  closer  to  her, 
and  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Will  you  consent  ?"  he  said. 

She  let  fall  her  father's  hand  and  stood 
up.  She  and  Van  Ness  were  a  little  apart 
from  the  others,  so  that  his  words  were 
heard  only  by  herself.  There  was  abso 
lute  silence  in  the  room,  except  for  the 
breathing  of  the  dying  man. 

Van  Ness  stooped  closer  to  her:  she 
could  feel  his  warm  clammy  breath  on 
her  cheek.  "  You  are  very  dear  to 
me."  Seeing  that  she  shuddered,  he 
changed  his  mode  of  attack  to  direct 
assault :  "  If  you  marry  me  you  will 
restore  the  property  —  restore,  you  un 
derstand? —  to  the  children  to  whom  it 
belongs." 

"Jenny,"  moaned  her  father,  "are  you 
ready  ?  I  cannot  die  in  peace  until  this 
is  done." 

The  clergyman  took  pity  on  the  girl : 
something  in  her  set,  deep -lined  face 
alarmed  him :  "  Is  there  any  reason  why 


A   LAW  UKTO  HERSELF. 


75 


you  do  not  wish  to  gratify  your  father's 
last  wish  ?" 

She  did  not  answer.  There  was  no 
reason  but  her  hopeless  passion  for  an 
other  man,  whose  wife  she  could  never 
be.  Yet  it  seemed  to  her  that  God  was 
bidding  her  to  be  true  to  that  true  love 
at  whatever  cost. 

"I  infer,"  said  the  little  man,  turning 
to  Van  Ness,  "  that  the  marriage  was  ar 
ranged  before,  and  is  only  hastened  now 
by" — glancing  at  the  captain — "circum 
stances." 

"Yes,  yes!  Precisely  !"  suavely.  "You 
may  trust  me.  You  may  have  heard  my 
name  before — Pliny  Van  Ness." 

Mr.  Lampret  bowed  deferentially : 
"The  name  is  well  known.  Our  church 
has  reason — grateful,"  he  murmured. — 
"My  dear  Miss  Swendon,  this  is  a  hard 
trial  —  hard.  A  young  girl  would  fain 
give  herself  away  with  joy  and  rejoicing. 
But  as  your  father  will  not  depart  in  peace, 
I  see  no  reason  why  the  ceremony  should 
not  immediately  take  place." 

"Jane  !  Jane  !"  cried  the  captain  shril 
ly,  "why  do  you  delay  ?" 

There  was  no  answer  for  a  minute. 
Then  there  came  into  her  face  a  sudden 
resolve.  She  turned  and  held  out  her 
hand  to  Van  Ness :  "  I  will  marry  you." 

The  words  revived  the  captain.  "  Lift 
me  up,"  he  said  to  David. — "  Closer, 
closer,  Mr.  Lampret!  I  can't  hear  very 
well."  He  listened  eagerly  until  the  last 
words  of  the  marriage  service  were  said. 
Then  his  head  sank  on  his  breast :  "  I'm 
always  loth  to  interfere.  But  I  am  glad 
that  is  settled  properly." 

Van  Ness  turned  to  kiss  his  wife,  but, 
without  seeing  him  apparently, 'she  went 
up  to  her  father  and  put  her  lips  to  his. 
Van  Ness  followed  her,  as  if  to  assert  his 
rightful  place,  and,  standing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  sofa,  possessed  himself  of  the 
captain's  one  hand,  pressing  it  gently. 

"  He  is  sinking  very  fast,"  he  said. 
"Let  him  rest  in  my  arms." 

She  shivered,  and  held  him  tighter  to 
her  breast.  When  she  would  have  stroked 
back  the  gray  hair  from  his  forehead, 
Van  Ness's  soft  ringers  were  there  with 
hers,  soothing  them:  "Compose  your 
self.  Our  dear  father  will  soon  be  gone." 


"Jenny !" 

"Yes,  father." 

"  I'll  hear  you  now — your  chapter,  you 
know.  We  ought  to  have  read  the  Bible 
more.  We  forgot  the  Lord,  we  were  so 
busy.  But — but — "  He  lifted  his  hand, 
struggled  to  rise,  his  dim  eyes  lighting 
with  sudden  energy.  "Jenny!  He  does 
n't  forget  me  now !" 

"No,  father,  no !" 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Dave  sob 
bed  aloud.  Mr.  Van  Ness  cleared  his 
throat  composedly.  "  I  will  sing,"  he 
said.  "A  hymn  would  soothe  his  pas 
sage,  probably;  or  shall  I  pray?" 

Jane  leaned  forward  :  "Go  away  !" 

"How?  Eh?"  aghast,  and  not  sure 
he  had  comprehended  the  vehement 
whisper. 

"Go.  You  shall  not  come  between  us 
in  these  last  minutes.  You  have  the 
money  now.  Go  away  !" 

Van  Ness  wheeled  instantly.  He  was 
plentiful  in  expedients  for  so  slight  an 
emergency  as  this.  He  beckoned  the 
clergyman  and  doctor  out  of  the  room, 
and  shut  the  door. 

"  It  would  be  better  to  leave  them  alone, 
gentlemen.  The  relation  between  Cap 
tain  Swendon  and  his — ah — Mis.  Van 
Ness — has  always  been  singularly  close 
and  intimate.  The  presence  of  so  many 
strangers  oppresses  them  both." 

"I  readily  understand  that,"  rejoined 
Mr.  Lampret  eagerly,  "as  far  as  we  are 
concerned.  But  do  you  return,  my  dear 
sir.  Surely  you — " 

But  Van  Ness  waved  his  hand  lightly: 
"  No,  no  !  I  am  comparatively  a  stranger 
to  the  dear  old  man.  In  a  few  moments 
— when  all  is  over — I  shall  return  to  sup 
port  and  console  her" 

"  Delicate  feeling  there !  Remarkably 
fine  feeling,  sir!"  said  the  clergyman  as 
he  strolled  with  the  doctor  to  his  buggy, 
leaving  Mr.  Van  Ness  to  the  sanctity  of 
his  grief.  "Going now?  I  shall  remain 
until  all  is  over.  There  appears  to  be  a 
storm  coming  up,"  with  a  sad  subjection 
of  tone. 

The  gathering  clouds  darkened  the 
room  where  the  captain  lay  dying :  the 
wind  sobbed  gustily  through  the  open 
window.  His  feeble  eyes  were  steady 


76 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF, 


as  they  never  had  been  in  life  :  he  nod 
ded  from  time  to  time  as  Jane  repeated 
the  old  verses  which  he  had  taught  her 
when  she  was  a  little  child. 

" '  Come  unto  Me.'  That's  good !  It's 
all  good. — Some  water,  Dave.  What  are 
you  crying  about,  old  fellow  ? — Yes,  we'll 
read  the  Bible  every  day,  Jenny.  We'll 
begin  all  fresh.  We've  plenty  of  time — 
plenty  of  time — " 

Dave,  holding  the  water  to  his  lips, 
took  it  quickly  away  and  fell  upon  his 
knees. 

"Oh,  father!  father!" 

The  darkness  was  heavy  and  the  wind 
blew  fiercely  as  this  overgrown  boy's  soul 
went  out  to  love  and  dogmatize  and  make 
mistakes  elsewhere. 

They  let  Jane  lie  a  while  upon  his 
breast :  she  was  as  cold  and  motionless 
as  the  dead  when  they  took  her  up. 

"  I'll  go  for  her  husband,"  said  the  sob 
bing  old  negro. 

"No,"  said  Betty  shrewdly.  "Let  her 
alone  a  while.  This  is  trouble  enough, 
God  knows,  poor  child  !" 

When  Jane's  senses  came  to  her,  and 
she  looked  about  her  intelligently,  old 
Dave  cried  eagerly,  "I'll  fetch  Mr.  Van 
Ness :  I'll  fetch  yoh  husband,  Miss  Jen 
ny." 

She  stood  up  quickly :  "  No.  Let  me 
be  alone  with  my  father  a  little  while. 
Go  out,  please,  and  watch  the  door." 

"Nobody  shall  come  in,"  said  Betty. 

The  room  was  nearly  dark.  She  was 
alone  with  the  dead  for  a  long  time.  She 
stooped  at  last  and  kissed  passionately 
the  poor  hand  and  face  which  had  been 
close  to  her  all  her  life. 

"Good-bye!"  she  said.  "Good-bye, 
father!" 

When  Mr.  Van  Ness  and  the  clergy 
man  entered  the  room  later,  they  found 
Betty  there,  her  lean  visage  half  terrified 
and  half  defiant. 

"Where  is  my  wife  ?"  said  Van  Ness 
with  the  sad  authority  becoming  the  mas 
ter  of  this  house  of  mourning. 


"She — she  begs  that  she  may  not  be 
disturbed  until  to-morrow,"  said  Betty 
with  a  scared  look  behind  her.  "She's 
ill.  The  fact  is,  she's  clean  worn  out 
with  trouble." 

"  I  can  readily  conceive  that,"  said  Mr. 
Lampret. 

But  Van  Ness  said  nothing :  he  only 
glanced  toward  the  still  figure  which  lay 
upon  the  sofa  covered  with  a  white  sheet, 
and  turned  away  with  a  gloom  and  alarm 
on  his  benignant  face  quite  new  to  it. 

A  couple  of  hours  afterward,  being 
alone,  he  met  Betty  coming  out  of  Jane's 
apartment,  and  stopped  her  sternly  : 

"Mrs.  Nichols,  I  must  see  my  wife. 
If  she  is  ill,  my  place  is  beside  her." 

For  her  answer  Betty,  with  a  gasp, 
threw  open  the  door. 

The  room  was  vacant. 

"Where  is  she?" 

"As  God  sees  me,  I  don't  know.  She 
bade  me  say  this  to  you — That  she  had 
paid  you  the  debt,  and  had  gone  where 
you  would  never  find  her." 

Van  Ness's  smooth  countenance  scarce 
ly  evinced  surprise.  He  went  into  the 
room  and  walked  about  it,  and  as  he 
touched  little  articles  of  dress  and  the 
toilette  which  she  had  left  scattered  here 
and  there,  which  were  yet  warm  from 
her  presence,  the  stout,  bulky  man  could 
scarcely  draw  his  breath.  He  stopped 
in  front  of  the  white  pillow  with  the  im 
press  of  her  head  on  it,  took  up  the  vel 
vet  band  which  had  fastened  her  hair, 
the  knot  half  untied.  So  nearly  within 
his  hold — to  escape ! 

"  What  is  the  money  to  me  ?"  he 
muttered.  "It  is  Jane  that  I  want  — 
Jane"  • 

Betty  was  standing  at  the  door  when 
he  went  out.  She  cowered  back  when 
she  saw  the  sultry  fire  in  his  eyes. 

"I  don't  know  where  she  went.  She 
only  said  as  you  would  never  find  her, 
sir." 

"  I  will  find  her,"  said  Van  Ness  quietly. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE  reason  which  Mr.  Van  Ness  of 
fered  for  Jane's  disappearance,  he 
protested,  would  suggest  itself  to  every 
body  as  the  only  possible  one:  her  grief 
had  deranged  her,  and  she  had  wander 
ed  away  bent  on  self-destruction.  But 
the  house  was  filled  now  with  the  friends 
of  the  captain,  among  them  Judge  Rhodes 
and  Mrs.  Wilde,  and  he  read  doubt  and 
lurking  suspicion  on  every  face.  The 
judge,  it  is  true,'  directed  the  hurried 
searches  through  the  grounds  and  the 
dragging  of  the  lake. 

"  But  I  wish  the  captain  had  not  push 
ed  the  marriage  so  hard.  Drill-major  to 
the  last  gasp.  I  was  to  blame  in  suggest 
ing  it  at  first,"  he  said,  point-blank  to  Van 
Ness. 

"  Suicide  ?  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said 
Mrs.  Wilde.  "Jane  is  eccentric,  as  every 
thoroughly  truthful  woman  is.  But  sane. 
One  of  the  sanest  people  I  know." 

She  summoned  Betty,  and  the  two  wo 
men  were  closeted  together  for  half  an 
hour. 

"You  should  have  sent  for  me,"  she 
said  when  the  story  was  ended.  "  The 
child  should  not  have  been  left  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  these  men.  Call  him 
in." 

When  Van  Ness  appeared  he  saw  that 
the  old  lady's  eyes  were  red. 

"  You  are  going  in  pursuit  of  her  ? 
Mrs.  Nichols  has  told  me  all,"  she  said 
blandly. 

"  I  shall  search  for  her,  undoubtedly. 
Her  mind  was  evidently  shaken.  There 
is  a  bare  chance  that  she  may  have  gone 
on  the  train.  But  the  river  being  so  near 
and  her  grief  so  great,  I  fear  the  worst, 
Mrs.  Wilde." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt !  But  if  you  do 
follow  her  on  the  train —  How  was  she 
dressed,  Betty  ?" 

"  In  gray.  Black  hat  and  gray  feath 
er,"  said  Betty  like  a  parrot. 

"  Thank  you  !  That  will  be  of  assist 
ance  to  me. — They  are  trying  to  help 


her  escape,"  he  thought  as  he  went  out, 
with  a  bow  and  melancholy  smile.  He 
had  waited  to  talk  with  Mr.  Lampret. 
He  asked  him  for  a  certificate  of  the 
marriage. 

"  If  my  wife  is  living  and  wandering  in 
sane  through  the  country,  it  will  be  neces 
sary  to  prove  my  right  to  claim  her." 

To  his  surprise,  the  clergyman  grew 
red  and  stammered,  with  a  painful  anx 
iety  in  his  boyish  face. 

"  I  fear  we  were  too  hasty,  Mr.  Van 
Ness.  Are  you  quite  sure  she  consented 
freely  to  the  marriage  ?  There  was  no 
moral  compulsion  used  ?" 

"There  was  none,"  coldly.  "My mar 
riage,  as  I  believe,  had  in  it  all  the  ele 
ments  of  future  happiness.  Besides,  that 
is  hardly  a  question,  it  appears  to  me,  for 
you  to  consider  now.  Whether  suitable 
or  not,  the  marriage  was  legal.  When 
can  you  give  me  the  certificate  ?" 

Mr.  Lampret  did  not  speak  for  a  mo 
ment.  "  I  suppose  it  is  irrevocable,"  he 
said  with  a  long  breath.  "  The  making 
out  of  the  certificate  will  involve  a  delay 
of  a  couple  of  hours." 

"  I  shall  wait  for  it,"  said  Van  Ness. 

It  was  midnight  before  he  left  The 
Hemlocks  and  took  the  train  into  New 
York.  There  he  had  other  work  to  do, 
which  consumed  an  hour  or  two.  He 
must  lay  plans  to  free  himself  from  any 
hold  which  Charlotte  had  upon  him.  He 
had  not  courage  to  live,  in  even  the  rare 
delights  to  which  he  looked  forward  as 
Jane's  husband,  with  that  sword  at  his 
throat.  He  could  find  no  trace  of  Char 
lotte.  But  he  wakened  up  a  lawyer  (not 
the  eminent  counsel  who  systematized 
his  vast  benevolent  schemes),  and  gave 
him  full  instructions  and  a  blank  cheque. 

"I  must  have  this  connection  closed  at 
once.  And  at  any  price,"  he  said  as  he  left 
the  door  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"To  Desbrosses  street  ferry.  In  time 
to  catch  the  Philadelphia  express,"  he 
ordered  the  cabman. 

77 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


He  had  not  tried  to  find  a  clew  to  her 
in  New  York.  She  was  unknown  there 
—  not  likely  to  be  recognized  even  by 
officials  on  the  trains  running  up  to  The 
Hemlocks. 

"She  would  try  to  escape  from  a  place 
where  she  is  a  stranger.  But  it  would 
cut  her  deeply  to  leave  her  father  unbur- 
ied,"  he  argued  shrewdly.  "She  would 
go  direct  to  their  old  home  in  Philadel 
phia,  where  the  associations  with  him 
were  strongest.  She  is  full  of  such  fool 
ish  notions  !"  He  glowed  with  admira 
tion  of  these  warm  affections,  so  becom 
ing  to  a  beautiful  woman,  as  he  leaned 
back  in  his  seat  in  the  car.  Van  Ness 
had  indeed  a  keen  appreciation  of  fine 
sentiments  in  books  or  in  people.  A  no 
ble  thought  fitly  uttered  or  a  pathetic 
strain  of  music  would  bring  the  tears 
to  his  eyes.  All  his  friends  will  testify 
to-day  that  he  is  a  man  of  most  sensitive 
nature.  He  remembered  this  admirable 
trait  in  himself  as  he  sat  thinking  over 
his  future  married  life  that  night.  It  was 
one  of  the  means  by  which  he  would  be 
sure  to  win  the  love  of  his  wife,  and  drive 
away  her  grief  for  the  poor  old  captain. 
He  took  out  a  tiny  volume  from  his  pock 
et  and  studied  it  carefully  by  the  dull 
light  of  the  lamp  overhead.  The  con 
ductor,  who  knew  the  great  Christian 
financier  by  sight,  looked  on  reverently 
at  a  distance.  It  was  some  epitome  of 
wisdom  that  he  pored  over:  perhaps  the 
Book  of  books.  There  was,  in  fact,  a 
little  mirror  set  in  the  inside  of  the  bind 
ing.  Van  Ness  studied  the  glisten  on 
his  •yellow  beard,  the  gluey  softness  of 
his  blue  eyes.  "There  never  was  a  wo 
man  who  would  not  yield  to  me,"  he 
thought,  shutting  the  book.  "  But  it  does 
not  matter  whether  she  does  or  not,"  he 
added,  his  fingers  searching  for  the  mar 
riage  certificate  in  his  pocket  and  closing 
on  it  with  a  fierce  grip. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

VAN  NESS  had  really  but  slight  know 
ledge  of  the  places  in  which  Jane's  early 
life  had  been  passed.  On  reaching  Phila 
delphia  he  was  forced  to  search  through 


old  directories  for  the  houses  in  which  the 
captain  had  lived,  and  go  to  them  in  turn 
—  a  tedious  process  enough,  as  the  old 
man  had  migrated,  as  his  whim  or  purse 
dictated,  from  Kensington  to  Sotithwark, 
from  a  close -built  block  in  the  business 
quarter  to  a  tumble-down  cottage  on  the 
Wissahickon.  It  was  near  night  before 
he  arrived  at  the  old  house  surrounded 
by  trees  in  the  Neck  which  had  been 
their  last  home  in  Philadelphia.  Dis 
appointment  and  secret  rage  had  only 
made  the  unctuous  sweetness  of  his  man 
ner  a  little  coarser  in  flavor.  The  woman 
who  came  to  the  door  adjusting  a  pink 
bow  at  her  collar  found  his  familiar  greet 
ing  exactly  suited  to  the  level  of  her  own 
breeding. 

"A  young  lady?  With  blue  eyes  and 
yellow  hair  ?  Oh  yes,  sir.  Colored  pretty 
much  like  yourself.  But  she  don't  favor 
you,  either.  Come  in !  come  in  !  My 
name's  Crawford.  Young  lady's  yer  sis 
ter,  likely?" 

"At  what  time  was  she  here  ?" 

"Just  at  breakfast -time.  Well,  say 
seven.  She  didn't  come  in  no  furder 
than  this  room.  Said  she'd  lived  here 
with  a  friend,  and  would  like  to  take  a 
look  ag'in  at  the  old  place.  She  sat  there, 
on  that  settee,  and  looked  in  the  fire  a 
while,  and  then  went  out  to  the  garden 
and  walked  up  and  down.  I  suspicioned 
she  wa'n't  right  in  her  mind,"  volubly. 
"  The  idee  of  comin'  back  to  look  at  a 
house  and  yard !  I  guess  I  was  right. 
Somethin'  wantin' — eh?"  touching  her 
forehead. 

"Yes.  Do  you  know  in  which  direc 
tion  she  went,  Mrs.  Crawford  ?" 

"  I  haven't  the  least  notion.  If  I'd  ha' 
had  any  intimation,  now,  that  she  had  es 
caped  from  her  friends,  I'd  ha'  done  all 
I  could  to  help  'em.  My  George  could 
hev'  followed  her  all  day,  for  that  mat 
ter.  What  was  the  cause,  now  ?  Re 
ligious  excitement?  Disappintment  ?" 

"  Both,  both !  You  did  not  observe 
her  dress,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  I  did.  Brown  waterproof 
and  brown  hat.  'Twouldn't  be  easy  to 
trace  her  by  her  dress." 

"  Did  she  speak  of  returning  here  ?" 

"  No.     I   wish    I'd  incouraged   her !" 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


79 


her  zeal  reaching  fever-heat  in  this  hint 
ed  tragedy.  "  She  come  in  an'  thanked 
me  very  gravely,  an'  said  she  would 
probably  never  see  the  old  house  ag'in. 
Poor  thing !  She  gave  George  some 
money,  which  wa'n't  at  all  necessary, 
I'm  sure." 

"  If  she  did  not  expect  to  see  the  house 
again,  she  meant  to  leave  the  city,"  said 
Van  Ness  when  he  was  again  in  the 
street.  "  She  will  be  easily  traced  at  the 
railway-stations." 

But  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  Young 
women  dressed  in  the  uniform  travelling 
costume  daily  came  and  went  in  troops 
through  the  avenues  of  travel :  a  dozen 
indifferent  ticket-agents  had  hazy  recol 
lections  of  this  especial  traveller  on  her 
way  to  Boston,  to  San  Francisco,  to  Bal 
timore.  Mr.  Van  Ness,  too,  found  that 
his  own  social  dignity  and  prominence 
sorely  hindered  his  researches.  Every 
body  in  the  city  knew  Pliny  Van  Ness 
by  sight.  It  would  not  do  for  him,  as 
for  any  common  man,  to  go  from  office 
to  office  inquiring  for  the  heroine  of  a 
mysterious  elopement.  The  Christian 
humanitarian  must  keep  his  garments 
clean  of  suspicion  as  jealously  as  Cae 
sar's  wife. 

Reporters,  too,  had  their  eyes  upon 
him,  turn  which  way  he  would,  for  the 
opinions  and  movements  of  Mr.  Van 
Ness  had  long  furnished  welcome  ma 
terial  for  the  columns  of  "  Personals  "  in 
the  morning  journals.  What  if  a  hint  of 
this  episode  of  his  marriage  and  his  wife's 
disappearance  should  creep  into  the  bla 
tant  newspapers  ?  He  moved,  threaten 
ed,  hampered,  by  this  open -day  terror, 
one  unsuccessful  day  slipping  into  an 
other  until  three  weeks  had  gone  by. 

Early  one  chilly  October  morning  he 
found  himself  without  any  definite  aim 
knocking  at  Mrs.  Crawford's  door,  and 
was  welcomed  by  her  with  effusion,  for 
she  had  supposed  her  chance  of  any 
share  in  the  tragedy  to  be  gone. 

"And  you  hain't  found  her  yet,  eh? 
Dear !  dear !  If  I'd  only  knowed  in 
time !  It's  told  on  you,  sir.  Yes,  in 
deed.  You've  aged  considerable  in  this 
month." 

The  only  real  change  in  Van  Ness  was 


a  certain  new  alien  expression  which  was 
now  and  then  perceptible  under  the  blan 
dishment  of  his  smile,  like  some  savage 
beast  peeping  out  from  behind  the  paint 
ed  canvas  of  his  cage.  His  news  from 
the  lawyer  in  New  York  was  unsatisfac 
tory  ;  he  was  baffled  at  every  turn  by 
insignificant  difficulties  in  his  search  for 
Jane  ;  there  was  every  temptation  for  the 
beast  which  was  in  him  to  break  its  bonds. 
But  luck  had  turned  for  him. 

"Dear!  dear!"  continued  Mrs.  Craw 
ford.  "  Have  you  tried  the  police  ? 
Though  they're  of  little  account.  She 
could  not  have  come  to  any  bodily 
harm.  The  dog  would  protect  her." 

"  Dog  ?  You  said  nothing  about  a  dog. 
Had  she  that  damnable  brute  with  her  ?" 
starting  up. 

"  A  large  hound,  sir.  Why,  to  be  sure, 
I  told  you  ! — Lord!  he's  gone!" 

Here  at  last  was  a  clew  !  It  proved  ef 
fectual.  The  agent  at  the  Pennsylvania 
Railroad  office  remembered  distinctly  the 
young  girl  who  wished  to  take  her  dog 
with  her  down  to  some  station  on  the 
coast,  and  the  difficulty  which  the  train 
master  meant  to  make  about  it.  "  But  she 
took  him,"  he  added.  "She  was  a  very 
beautiful  woman.  Nobody  cared  to  re 
fuse  her." 

Van  Ness  went  down  to  the  Branch, 
to  Beach  Haven,  Manasquan,  all  the  fish 
ing-villages  along  the  coast,  among  the 
rest  to  Sutphen's  Point.  He  talked  to 
old  Sutphen  himself,  his  foot  resting  on 
a  barnacle-eaten  log  where  Jane  herself 
had  sat  the  day  before.  But  the  old  man 
was  loyal.  He  was  stupid,  stared  vacant 
ly  at  Van  Ness,  had  seen  no  young  wo 
man  and  no  dog  :  there  had  never  been 
any  such  at  the  Point.  Van  Ness,  went 
hurriedly  on  to  the  next  station,  spent  a 
couple  of  days  in  the  search,  and  return 
ed  to  Philadelphia. 

"So  the  young  lady  came  back  before 
you  ?"  said  the  agent,  nodding  familiarly 
as  he  passed  the  ticket-window. 

"Yes.     You  saw  her?" 

"Oh,  she  bought  her  ticket  of  me. 
Yesterday,  you  know." 

"  For  what  point  ?"  Van  Ness's  voice 
was  so  hoarse  that  the  man  heard  him 
with  difficulty. 


8o 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEX  SELF. 


"  Richmond.    Took  the  dog.  too." 

"Give  me  a  ticket  for  Richmond, 
please.  When  does  the  next  train  go  ?" 

"In  half  an  hour.  She  has  twenty- 
four  hours  the  start  of  you,  sir,"  with  a 
significant  laugh  as  he  handed  out  the 
ticket  and  change. 

Van  Ness  arrived  at  dawn  the  follow 
ing  morning  at  the  little  wooden  shed 
with  its  garden  of  dahlias  and  lilacs 
which  called  itself  a  depot  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  drowsy  country  town  so 
lately  the  focus  on  which  had  rested 
the  eyes  of  the  civilized  world.  Two 
or  three  negroes  bustled  into  activity 
as  the  train  rolled  in :  an  old  woman 
dusted  the  rocking  -  chairs  about  the 
stove.  They  all  remembered  the  tall, 
handsome  young  lady  with  the  dog,  who 
had  flung  about  her  money  so  freely  the 
day  before. 

"  I  brought  her  breakfast,  sah.  I'm 
Dabney.  Everybody  knows  Dabney  's 
reliable.  Mighty  fine  hound,  sah.  De 
young  lady  went  on  to  Morganton,  Nothe 
Callina.  Oh,  tank  you,  sah  !" 

Morganton  is  a  village  perched  on  a 
spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  made  dusky  by 
shadows  of  overhanging  hills.  The  gar 
rulous  landlord  of  the  inn  was  ready  to 
point  out  his  prey  to  Van  Ness. 

"A  lady  ?  Miss  Swendon,  you  mean  ? 
I've  known  her  since  she  was  a  child. 
Captain  Swendon  came  to  the  Balsam 
Mountings  for  years  for  the  hunting. 
Allays  brought  the  little  girl.  She's 
broken  down  terrible.  Her  father's 
death's  interrupted  her,  powerful." 

"  She  is  here,  then  ?"  lowering  his  voice. 

"No.  She  went  on  to  the  captain's 
camping  -  ground  on  the  Old  Black. 
Seemed  as  if  she  must  go  every  place 
where  he  had  been.  He  allays  buried 
himself  among  the  mountings.  I  doubt 
if  you  can  find  the  place." 

"Where  Miss  Swendon  can  go  I  sure 
ly  can  follow." 

"  Dunno.  She's  used  to  the  moun 
tings.  P'raps  you  can  get  a  guide  at 
Asheville.  It's  the  last  place  whah  hu 
man  beings  live — high  up  on  the  Black : 
an  old  hunter,  Glenn  and  his  wife  — 
kind,  decent  people,  but  not  jest  civil 
ized.  The  captain  was  allays  in  cahoot 


with  them,  and  they  was  powerful  fond 
of  Jane." 

There  was  no  regular  conveyance  then 
across  the  Blue  Ridge  to  Asheville.  Van 
Ness  crossed  the  range  on  horseback 
with  a  guide:  the  horse  broke  down, 
and  caused  a  delay  of  a  day.  He  ar 
rived,  therefore,  at  the  little  hill  -  town 
late  in  the  afternoon  of  Friday.  Miss 
Swendon  had  gone  up  into  the  moun 
tains  two  days  before,  he  learned,  with 
the  old  hunter  Glenn,  who  happened  to 
be  in  the  village  with  a  load  of  roots  and 
peltry. 

"1  must  go  on  to-night,"  said  Van 
Ness  urgently. 

The  ex-Confederate  colonel  who  kept 
the  inn  surveyed  him  leisurely.  "Glenn's 
house  lies  about  thirty  miles  up  in  the 
Balsam  Range,"  he  said  deliberately. 
"The  passes  are  dangerous  in  daylight: 
it  would  be  impossible  to  make  the  as 
cent  at  night.  I  shall  not  be  able  to  find 
a  guide  for  you  until  to-morrow." 

Van  Ness  was  exhausted  in  mind  and 
body.  The  night's  rest  was  tempting. 

"  I  shall  find  her  at  this  man  Glenn's  ? 
She  will  not  go  farther  ?" 

The  colonel  laughed  :  "Not  unless  she 
turns  hermit  or  takes  up  her  lodging  with 
the  wild  beasts.  Glenn's  hut  is  the  last 
human  habitation  on  the  mountains.  You 
have  her,  sure." 

"Then  I  will  take  supper  and  a  bed." 

He  slept  soundly  that  night,  and  sip 
ped  his  coffee  at  breakfast  comfortably, 
smiling  now  and  then  to  himself.  The 
silly  creature  was  making  herself  happy 
this  morning  in  the  mountain -fastness, 
going  over  her  father's  old  haunts,  think 
ing  that  she  was  hidden  where  he  would 
never  find  her.  But  how  easily  he  had 
run  her  down  !  The  horses  and  guide 
were  waiting  at  the  door.  Before  the 
sun  set  he  would  have  her  in  his  hold 
securely,  as  easily  as  he  could  grasp  that 
bird  in  its  cage  yonder. 

Glenn's  house  was  in  fact  but  a  ram 
bling  log  hut  built  under  the  shelter  of 
one  of  the  peaks  of  the  Old  Black.  The 
Appalachian  ranges  at  this  point  reach 
their  highest  altitude  on  the  continent. 
The  unbroken  primeval  forest  came  up 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEX  SELF. 


81 


to  the  very  door  of  the  hut.  A  few  feet 
off  a  stream,  the  head-water  of  the  Swan- 
nanoa,  dashed  over  the  precipice. 

As  the  sun  was  setting  that  evening, 
the  old  hunter's  wife  waited  in  the  door 
to  meet  Jane,  who  came  slowly  down  the 
gorge,  with  the  dog  beside  her.  The  two 
women  stood  together  watching  the  red 
ball  of  fire  go  down  behind  Old  Crag 
gy.  It  threw  sharp  shafts  of  light  into 
the  heavy  cloud  that  hung  halfway  up 
the  peak,  while  overhead  the  sky  was 
green  and  translucent  as  the  sea. 

The  hunter's  wife  did  not  speak  to 
Jane  as  she  stood  beside  her,  and  did 
not  watch  her.  The  incurious  habit  of 
silence  of  these  mountaineers  rested  the 
girl.  They  had  been  her  friends  when 
she  was  a  little  girl :  she  had  come  back, 
as  sure  of  finding  their  friendship  as  the 
rock  on  which  their  house  was  built. 
She  had  come  up  with  her  heart  and 
brain  full  of  unwholesome  sickness  to 
be  cured  in  these  silent  solitudes  of  the 
world.  The  cure  was  begun.  Her  eye 
was  clearer,  the  hopeless  load  was  lifted 
from  her  life.  What  did  pain  matter  ? 
Or  death  ?  There  was  about  her  here 
a  great  repose  in  which  these  things 
faded  out. 

She  looked  at  the  glittering  stream 
close  by,  at  the  unending  slopes  of  un 
derbrush  blazing  scarlet  with  the  rowan 
and  the  shonieho,  and  then  beyond  these 
lower  hills — fold  and  fold  of  living  color 
—  to  the  great  bare  peak  wrapped  in 
clouds,  a  few  dead  trees  climbing  its 
base,  which  stands  like  a  mighty  ward 
er  of  the  Atlantic  coast.  The  tears  rose 
to  her  eyes. 

"One  must  have  a  mean  and  selfish 
soul  to  be  unhappy  here,"  she  thought. 
The  twilight  fell  suddenly.  The  sides 
of  the  mountains  went  into  shadow : 
only  the  sky  about  the  peaks  burned 
redly.  Jane  went  in  and  sat  down  by 
the  old  hunter  before  the  big  log-fire. 

"  I  wish  you  to  let  me  stay  with  you," 
she  said.  "  I  have  a  little  money,  which 
will  last  a  long  time  here.  After  it  is 
gone  I  can  make  more,  somehow." 

Glenn  for  answer  only  put  out  his  hand 
and  touched  hers  gently.  The  hand  was 
as  bony  as  her  father's,  and  his  hair  was 
6 


as  white.  That  comforted  the  girl  more 
than  any  words.  His  wife,  who  was  al 
ways  the  speaker,  said,  "You've  always 
been  welcome,  Jane.  You  know  that. 
You  won't  need  money.  We  get  our 
living  out  of  the  mountings  for  the  tak 
ing  of  it.  When  your  father  was  gone 
it  was  nateral  for  you  to  come  straight 
here,  an'  to  stay." 

"Yes,  I  will  stay,"  said  Jane. 

Presently  the  old  man  raised  his  hand  : 
"  Hark  !  There's  folks  coming." 

"  I  hear  nothing,  father,"  said  Mrs. 
Glenn. 

"Yes.  There's  horses  at  the  lower 
ford.  Two  of  'em.  They're  acrost  now. 
It's  more'n  a  year  since  anybody's  bin 
up  the  mounting.  Kin  it  be  any  one 
a-followin'  you,  Jane  ?" 

She  got  up  slowly :  "Who  could  follow 
me?" 

The  next  moment  the  hoofs  of  the 
horses  rang  on  the  shelving  rocks  out 
side.  The  door  opened,  and  Van  Ness 
stood  on  the  threshold. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE  Scotia  was  within  a  few  hours  of 
Liverpool.  The  passengers  were  all  ga 
thered  on  deck  —  the  women,  eager  and 
garrulous,  eying  each  other  a  little  curi 
ously  in  their  new  costumes  —  even  the 
most  blase  traveller  among  them  roused 
by  the  smell  of  land.  Miss  Fleming,  how 
ever,  sat  quietly  apart,  with  Mr.  Neckart 
beside  her.  The  other  passengers  were 
accustomed  to  see  these  two  together,  si 
lent  and  uncommunicative  even  to  each 
other.  Cornelia  had  early  understood 
that  Neckart's  ailment,  whatever  it  was, . 
whether  mood  or  disease,  craved  quiet. 
She  instantly  suited  herself  to  its  need. 
Captain  Swendon  had  always  rejoiced  in 
her  as  one  of  the  most  loquacious  and  so 
ciable  of  human  beings.  Bruce,  on  the 
contrary,  was  strongly  attracted  by  the 
aloofness  and  unconscious  repose  of  this 
taciturn  woman,  who  held  herself  apart 
from  the  vulgarly  fashionable  crowd  in 
the  cabins,  not  being  of  their  kind.  He 
fell  into  the  habit  of  taking  his  seat  near 
her,  partly  to  avoid  the  others,  partly  for 


.82 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


the  comfort  of  being  able  to  sleep,  talk, 

•  or  be  silent  undisturbed.     After  a  few 
days  he  began  to  be  conscious  of  a  fine 
similarity  of  taste  and   convictions  be 
tween  them.    Whether  it  was  a  question 
of  political  law  or  the  color  of  a  curling 
wave,  Cornelia's  thought  about  it  evi 
dently  ran   in  the   same  groove   as  his 
own,  though   more  weakly,  as  became 
the  intellect  of  a  woman.     A  word  or  a 
laughing  glance  was  enough  to  convey 
this  subtle  sympathy  between  them.     It 
had  undeniably  soothed  and  brightened 
the  passage. 

Bruce  Neckart,  at  night,  alone  in  his 
state-room,  knew  that  he  had  left  ambi 
tion,  love,  happiness,  behind  him  —  that 
he  was  cut  off  from  all  the  chances  of 
i  life.     At  night  the  indescribable  feeling 

•  of  vacancy  at  the  base  of  the  brain,  the 
stricture  as  of  an  iron  band  about  his 
jaws,  the  occasional  sudden  numbness 

•  of  nerve  and  thought,  as  though  he  were 
stricken  for  the  instant  with  extreme  old 
age,  were  hints' which  brought  his  ap 
proaching  fate  before  him  as  with  a  hor 
ror  of  great  darkness.     But  on  deck,  in 
daylight,  the  swell  lapping  the  vessel, 
his  feeble  appetite  gratified  by  a  well- 
cooked  meal,  there  was   some   interest 
yet  to  be  found  in  the  Southern  prob 
lem  or  the  claims  of  the  Pre-Raphael- 
ites ;  and  he  was  grateful  to  Chance  for 
this  companion  who  sat  ready  to  grasp 

.  any  subject  which  attracted  him,  with  a 
woman's  fine  intuition,  but  who  demand- 

.  ed  only  the  personal  courtesy  due  to  an 
innocent,  manly  boy.  She  showed  him, 
too,  during  the  voyage,  much  womanly, 
personal  kindness,  for  which,  being  of 
an  honest,  affectionate  nature,  he  was 
grateful. 

Now  that  they  were  nearing  land, 
therefore,  Mr.  Neckart's  thoughts  as  he 
sat  beside  her  were  wholly  busied  with 
his  companion.  He  was  heartily  sorry 
for  her.  Ordinary  observers,  he  reflect 
ed,  would  mistake  her  for  one  of  the 
strong  -  minded  Advanced  Sisterhood, 
but  he  knew  her  to  be  sensitive  and 
delicate  in  the  extreme.  He  felt  a  cer 
tain  sense  of  ownership  in  her  as  his 
discovery.  How  was  she  to  find  her 
way  alone  in  Europe  ?  He  had  meant 


to  cut  absolutely  loose  from  every  tie  of 
his  past  life  on  landing,  but  this  thread 
held  him  still.  Could  he  arrange  any 
future  occasional  intercourse  with  her  ? 
He  did  not  mean  to  hamper  himself  at 
all.  Still,  he  might  be  useful  to  her,  etc., 
etc.  In  short,  the  pillow  on  which  he 
had  rested  his  aching  head  had  been 
warm  and  pleasant  to  him,  and  he  threw 
it  away  reluctantly.  There  really  was  no 
reason,  he  argued  (according  to  the  inva 
riable  argument  of  men  concerning  this 
woman),  no  reason  whatever,  why  firm 
and  fervent  friendships  should  not  exist 
between  persons  of  opposite  sex.  He 
would  have  been  insulted  at  a  hint  that 
this  sympathy,  bonne  camaraderie,  with 
the  little  woman  in  green  beside  him 
involved  disloyalty  to  Jane.  The  little 
woman,  however,  gave  neither  of  these 
fine  names  to  their  traffic  of  sentiment. 
The  Cornelias  of  their  sex  make  no  mis 
takes  in  this  matter. 

It  was  a  sombre,  foreboding  day.  The 
passengers  were  gathered  on  the  forward 
deck.  Neckart  and  Cornelia  were  alone, 
the  gray  fog  shutting  them  iu.  She  sat 
with  her  head  turned  from  him,  immo 
vable,  but  he  was  conscious,  through  the 
strong  subtle  magnetism  that  belonged 
to  this  woman,  of  the  powerful  excite 
ment  which  she  controlled.  He  quite 
forgot  his  own  trouble.  This  delicate, 
lonely  creature  venturing  into  the  world ! 
He  asked  her  some  questions  as  to  her 
plans  on  landing,  but  she  answered  vague 
ly.  She  heard  only  the  throb  of  the  steam 
er  beating  out  the  few  moments  left  to 
her.  Her  whole  life  was  risked  upon 
this  voyage.  Had  she  failed  ?  There 
was  but  an  hour  left.  What  woman 
could  do  she  had  done.  Good  God ! 
why  must  she  be  silent?  Her  whole 
soul  had  called  out  for  this  man  for 
years :  she  had  loved  him  with  a  man's 
force  of  passion.  Why  could  she  not 
speak  now  and  tell  him  so  ?  She  must 
sit  beside  him  dumb,  lifeless,  unless  he 
put  out  his  hand  to  take  her ! 

"Half-past  four,"  said  Neckart,  look 
ing  at  his  watch.  "I  am  sure  you  are 
sorry  the  voyage  is  so  nearly  over." 

She  did  not  speak,  but  he  caught  a 
gleam  in  her  eye  that  startled  him.  Un- 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


der  all  her  coldness  she  was  a  strange, 
vivid  creature  well  worth  study.  He 
leaned  forward  eagerly. 

"Your  undertaking  terrifies  you,  now 
that  the  time  has  come.  You  would 
rather  turn  back  ?" 

She  moved  restlessly  under  his  keen 
scrutiny,  as  though  it  hurt  her.  Her 
hands  were  clasped  on  her  knees,  her 
eyes  fixed  on  the  black  line  on  the  hor 
izon  which  marked  land.  "  No,  I  will  go 
on." 

"  Cornelia,"  with  warm  kindness  in  his 
face  and  voice,  "  I  am  afraid  you  have 
overrated  your  devotion  to  your  work. 
A  woman  must  be  possessed  by  her  art 
as  by  a  demon  to  enable  her  to  endure 
years  of  solitude  in  a  foreign  country, 
homeless  and  friendless.  Have  you 
counted  all  the  cost  ?  When  you  leave 
me  you  cut  yourself  loose  from  all  your 
old  life."  She  turned  her  head  away, 
but  made  no  reply.  "I  do  not  believe 
you  are  strong  enough,  poor  child  !"  he 
said  presently. 

Silence  pleaded  for  her  as  no  words  of 
her  own  could  have  done.  Neckart  saw 
the  strained  eyes,  the  quivering  chin  : 
his  interest  suddenly  became  alive,  in 
tense —  a  feeling  quite  apart  from  the 
kindliness  which  his  words  expressed. 

"I  begin  to  think  you  have  mistaken 
your  vocation  altogether.  You  are  too 
dependent,  too  tender  a  woman,  for  an 
artist.  You  should  have  chosen  a  do 
mestic  life,  Cornelia."  And,  after  an 
embarrassed  pause  of  a  moment,  "You 
should  have  married." 

He  saw  the  quick  shudder :  his  own 
blood  beat  feverishly.  He  had  always 
been  curious  about  women.  He  would 
push  the  probe  a  little  deeper :  "  If  there 
had  been  any  friend  who  was  more  to 
you  than  your  art? — " 

She  turned  her  head  slowly.  The 
bleached  face  and  burning  eyes  fasten 
ed  on  his  own  told  her  story  before  she 
spoke :  "  I  have  had  no  friend  but  you, 
Bruce." 

Neckart  started  to  his  feet,  hot  from 
head  to  foot  like  a  blushing  girl.  He 
paced  the  deck  dumb  with  shame  and 
confusion.  It  was  long  before  he  found 
courage  to  look  at  her.  Her  hands  were 


clasped  over  her  face :  she  was  sobbing 
in  a  helpless,  strengthless  way  .that  seem 
ed  to  put  her  on  the  ground  at  his  feet. 
He  looked  toward  the  land.  Would  it 
never  come  nearer  ?  Finally,  feeling  him 
self  wholly  a  scoundrel,  and  moved  by  a 
great  compassion  and  as  great  annoyance, 
he  pushed  the  green  cloak  aside  and  sat 
down  hastily  on  the  bench  beside  her, 
beginning  to  talk  rapidly.  If  the  limb 
must  come  off,  the  quicker  the  better. 

"I  understand  just  what  you  mean, 
Miss  Fleming.  You  need  a  friend,  an 
adviser,  being  here  in  Europe  alone. 
Of  course  you  turn  to  me,  remembering 
old  times  in  Delaware,  and  —  and  — " 
She  had  stopped  sobbing  now,  and  was 
watching  him  breathlessly,  her  eyes  fol 
lowing  his  lips  as  he  spoke.  Neckart, 
looking  at  her,  broke  down. 

"  How  can  I  do  it  ?"  he  thought.  "This 
woman's  whole  life  has  been  given  to  me, 
and  I  did  not  know  it! — It's  natural," 
he  began  again  aloud,  "that  you  should 
turn  to  me.  You  know  how  gladly  I 
would  be  your  friend — " 

She  shook  her  head,  her  straining 
eyes  on  his.  "Yes,  gladly — thankfully  !" 
(Surely,  it  was  only  right  to  soften  the 
blow.)  "You  cannot  know  how — how 
dear  you  have  always  been  to  me,  Cor 
nelia.  But  I  can  have  nothing  to  do 
with  friendship  or  any  other  relation 
which  makes  a  man's  life  worth  endur 
ance.  I  am  barred  out  from  so  much 
of  my  birthright  by  my  blood." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Bruce ?" 

"You  know  the  fate  of  the  Davidges : 
I  need  not  go  over  the  story.  God  knows 
it  is  not  a  pleasant  subject  for  me  to  dwell 
upon.  But  for  the  last  year  I  have  had 
unmistakable  proof  that  I  have  the  he 
reditary  disease.  That  is  the  reason  why 
I  have  given  up  my  business  and  every 
tie  in  life,  and  expatriated  myself." 

As  he  spoke  she  rose,  shaken  with  ex 
citement  ;  her  face  took  on  a  new  mean 
ing  ;  for  the  moment  she  was  a  young  and 
beautiful  woman:  "Oh,  Bruce!  Bruce! 
you  are  all  wrong !  Is  it  possible  that  you 
have  never  been  undeceived  ?  There  is 
not  a  drop  of  the  Davidge  blood  in  your 
veins  !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"  I  have  heard  the  story  from  my  moth 
er  a  hundred  times.  Your  father  was  mar 
ried  twice  —  the  first  time  in  Maryland, 
where  you  were  born.  Your  mother  died 
at  your  birth.  He  came  to  Kent  county 
and  married  Miss  Davidge,  who  never 
had  any  children.  It  was  the  first  symp 
tom  of  her  insanity  that  she  conceived 
the  idea  that  you  were  her  own  son,  and 
your  father  willingly  humored  her  in  the 
belief.  You  were  deceived  too  as  a  child, 
lest  you  might  betray  the  real  facts  to  her. 
But  I  thought  when  you  were  a  man  you 
would  be  told  the  truth." 

"How  could  I?"  said  Neckart,  bewil 
dered.  "My  father  died  when  I  was  a 
boy  of  ten,  and  my  mother —  But  she 
was  not  my  mother!"  His  eyes  filled: 
he  turned  hastily  away.  It  seemed  to 
him  as  if  the  dear  old  mother  had  just 
then  died  to  him. 

Cornelia  timidly  touched  his  arm  : "  But 
you  do  not  understand.  You  are  not  a 
Davidge.  You  are  free  from  the  Davidge 
disease." 

"Free  ?"  It  was  not  easy  to  turn  back 
the  convictions  and  terrors  of  a  lifetime 
in  a  moment.  He  stared  at  her  stunned  : 
"Then  these  symptoms  have  been  only 
caused  by  overwork,  as  the  doctors  said  ? 
I — I  am  like  other  men?" 

"Yes." 

"Merciful  God!" 

Cornelia  leaned  over  the  taffrail.  Would 
he  come  to  her?  The  blood  ebbed  weak 
ly  in  her  veins ;  the  rush  of  the  water  be 
low  roared  like  thunder ;  as  the  minutes 
passed  a  deadly  sickness  came  into  her 
breast.  She  looked  to  find  him.  He  was 
at  the  other  end  of  the  deck,  talking  with 
the  captain,  his  swarthy  face  glowing,  his 
eyes  like  coals  of  fire. 

"  The  Russia  is  the  first  steamer  to  New 
York,"  she  heard  the  captain  say.  "You 
can  board  her  to-night.  This  is  a  very 
sudden  resolution,  Mr.  Neckart?" 

"  Yes.  But  I  must  return  to  my  busi 
ness  at  once.  There  are  other  matters 
too  which  —  matters  which  I  have  ne 
glected." 

"  But  your  health  ?  You  mentioned  a 
cerebral  disorder  which  required  rest?" 

"Oh,  I  am  much  better!  The  sea- 
voyage —  I  am  another  man,  sir !" 


He  walked  down  the  deck,  his  back 
toward  her.  It  was  the  heavy  figure,  the 
swinging  awkward  gait,  which  she  re 
membered  twenty  years  ago  on  the  old 
farm-road.  The  world  was  born  anew  to 
him :  health,  work,  chances — he  had  but 
to  stretch  out  his  hands  and  clutch  them 
all  again,  and  under  all  was  the  sweet 
triumphant  passion. 

"Jane!  Jane!" 

His  eyes  strained  back  over  the  long 
waste  of  water.  But  as  for  Cornelia, 
he  had  forgotten  that  she  was  in  the 
world. 

When  the  people  were  leaving  the 
steamer  to  go  on  the  tug,  she  came  up 
to  him.  It  was  easier  to  bear  another 
turn  of  the  rack  than  be  utterly  dropped 
out  of  remembrance. 

"We  part  here,  Mr.  Neckart,"  with  an 
admirably  cordial  little  smile,  holding 
out  her  gloved  hand. 

Neckart  stammered  with  sudden  re 
morse  and  pity :  "  Ton  my  soul,  Miss 
Fleming,  I  forgot  that  you  were  going 
ashore !  Forgive  me.  But  a  man  re 
prieved  with  the  axe  at  his  neck  can't 
be  expected  to  have  his  senses  at  call." 

"You  go  back,  then  ?" 

"  Oh,  immediately  !  I  must  regain  my 
— my  work.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 
zealously.  "  Your  baggage,  now  ?  There 
will  be  nothing  dutiable,  of  course.  Will 
you  have  it  sent  to  London  or  direct  to 
the  Continent  ?  You  told  me  your  plans, 
but — " 

"You  have  forgotten  them,"  smiling. 
"  The  baggage  is  already  on  its  way. 
You  forget  I  am  one  of  the  capable,  self- 
reliant  sisterhood.  No.  You  can  do  no 
thing  for  me  but  to  say  good-bye." 

Neckart  caught  her  hand  and  wrung 
it  vehemently,  but  it  lay  with  its  smooth 
kid  covering  passive  in  his  palm.  He 
began  to  say  something  to  her  about  her 
art  and  success,  but  the  words  seemed  a 
ghastly  mockery  and  died  in  his  throat. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  succeed,  undoubtedly, 
but  in  a  low  grade.  My  ability  is  of  in 
ferior  quality.  I  know  all  my  limita 
tions,"  with  a  sudden  metallic  laugh. 

. "  You  will  return  in  a  year  or  two, 
and — " 

"No,  I  shall  not  return.     I  shall  never 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


see  you  again,"  looking  for  the  first  time 
in  his  face. 

Neckart  glanced  beyond  her  to  the 
strange  city,  vast  and  dreary  in  the 
twilight  and  drizzle  and  falling  soot. 
The  docks  were  swarming  with  life. 
Some  of  their  fellow  -  passengers  had 
already  landed  and  been  met  by  eager 
friends,  and  were  driven  away  to  their 
homes.  This  woman  was  going  friend 
less  into  the  night  and  crowd.  She  was 
so  little  and  lonely  and  hardly  used  !  But 
what  could  he  do  ?  He  had  not  a  minute 
to  lose  if  he  would  board  the  Russia. 

"Miss  Fleming,  I  owe  a  fresh  lease  of 
life  to  you.  I  shall  always  think  of  you 
with  gratitude." 

"What  I  gave  you  was  a  free  gift," 
she  said  in  a  very  quiet  voice.  "  I  want 
no  gratitude  in  return  for  it.  Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye." 

She  suddenly  raised  his  hand  and  kiss 
ed  it. 

"  Cornelia !" 

But  she  was  gone,  and  in  a  moment 
was  lost  in  the  hurrying  crowds,  on 
which  a  sullen  rain  was  beginning  to 
fall. 

Before  midnight  Neckart  was  plough 
ing  his  way  back.  His  brain  was  quite 
clear — no  threats  of  paralysis  or  sudden 
age.  He  lay  awake  building  honest  air- 
castles — new  plans  for  the  paper,  dreams 
of  happiness  for  Jane  as  fresh  and  sweet 
as  a  boy's  of  his  first  love.  But  through 
them  all  the  kiss  on  his  hand  burned 
like  fire.  He  rubbed  it  again  and  again 
angrily. 

He  wanted  no  guilty  damned  spot 
about  him  when  he  came  to  Jane. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

WHEN  the  door  of  the  hut  opened 
Bruno  growled  furiously.  Mr.  Van  Ness 
appeared  on  the  threshold,  smiling,  be 
nign,  a  goodly  sight,  from  his  blond  head 
and  the  yellow  topaz  on  his  snowy  shirt- 
front  to  the  polished  boots. 

"Down,  Bruno,  down  !"  said  Jane. 

The  old  hunter  observed  that  though 
she  stood  erect  she  could  not  bring  her 
voice  above  a  whisper.  She  looked  at 


Van  Ness  like  a  kid  that  the  dogs  were 
going  to  tear  to  death.  Glenn  came  up 
hastily  between  her  and  the  stranger. 
He  had  the  dog's  sudden  antipathy  to 
him  and  to  his  smile. 

"  What  is  your  business  ?" 

Van  Ness  advanced  and  held  out  his 
hand  cordially.  The  mountains  had  had 
their  effect  upon  him :  his  irritated  nerves 
lay  now  quieted  out  of  sight  in  the  thick 
cool  flesh.  As  he  ascended  the  heights 
he  had  laid  his  plans.  Gentleness  first, 
force  if  need  be  :  gentle  measures  would 
no  doubt  suffice.  The  law  would  ensure 
to  him  immediate  possession  of  his  wife. 
She  had  the  devilish  obstinacy  of  a  mule, 
but  she  was  his  wife.  He  would  bring 
her  to  love  him  at  last,  and  their  future 
life  would  be  eminently  respectable  and 
comfortable.  Laidley's  estate  must  yield 
now,  on  an  average —  ?  The  remainder 
of  the  ride  had  passed  in  pleasant  calcu 
lation.  Never  had  his  temper  been  more 
serene  or  firm  than  when  he  presented 
himself  before  his  wife. 

"What's  your  business?"  said  the  old 
man. 

"My  business,"  gently,  "is  with  that 
lady.  I  have  followed  her  here  from 
New  York,  and  I  thank  you  heartily, 
sir,  for  taking  care  of  her." 

"Of  course  I'll  take  care  of  Jane.  I'll 
not  allow  her  to  be  follered  or  disturbed, 
neyther. — Do  you  want  to  see  this  man, 
child?" 

Jane  did  not  hear  him.  Her  eyes  were 
fastened  on  the  handsome  figure,  all  light 
and  benignity.  She  had  thought  she  was 
done  with  it  for  ever.  It  seemed  to  her 
now  as  if  it  never  would  leave  her  sight 
again. 

"You  kin  see  clearly  that  you're  un 
welcome  to  her,"  said  Glenn. — "Wife, 
take  Jane  into  her  own  room  until  this 
gentleman  is  gone." 

"When  I  go,"  said  Van  Ness  with  a 
pleasant,  airy  wave  of  the  hand,  "she 
goes  with  me.  You  are  kind,  my  dear 
sir,  but  unreasonable.  I  have  a  claim 
upon  this  lady  which  even  you  will  al 
low  is  sufficient." 

"What  claim  has  he  on  you,  Jane?" 
turning  his  back  abruptly  on  Van  Ness. 
"  Has  he  any  right  to  talk  in  this  way  ?" 


86 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


"Yes.     I  am  his  wife." 

"  Wife !  Married  !  Not  accordin'  to 
law  ?" 

"There  is  the  certificate." 

At  the  sight  of  this  slip  of  paper,  and 
with  the  rustle  of  it  in  Glenn's  hand,  her 
strength  ebbed  away  from  Jane.  It  was 
the  Law.  Her  prejudices  and  dislikes 
seemed  suddenly  insignificant,  helpless, 
in  this  mighty  force.  It  had  the  same  ef 
fect  on  the  ignorant,  law-abiding  moun 
taineer. 

"  I  don't  see  but  as  it's  correct,"  turn 
ing  it  over,  perplexed.  "She's  yer  legal 
wife." 

"  No  matter  ef  she  were  his  wife  a  hun 
dred  times,"  cried  his  wife:  "she  shall 
not  go  back  ef  she  chooses  to  stay. 
P'raps  he's  abused  her.  He  shall  not 
force  her  away." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  force  her  to  leave 
you,"  in  the  same  gentle,  cheerful  tone. 
"  Be  rational,  dear  friends.  I  leave  Jane 
to  answer  whether  I  have  ever  used  to 
ward  her  a  word  or  action  that  was  not 
loving  and  tender." 

"No,"  said  Jane,  dully. 

"Do  you  know  anything  of  me  which 
would  justify  your  flight?  Answer  me 
candidly.  Is  there  a  single  reason  why 
you  should  not  honor  and  respect  me  as 
your  husband  ?" 

Jane  was  silent.  The  law  within  her 
gave  a  savage  answer.  But  what  was 
that  but  blind  prejudice  ?  She  must  an 
swer  according  to  the  judgment  of  the 
outside  world. 

"  Is  there  any  reason  ?" 

"No — none." 

Van  Ness  nodded  cheerfully,  and  mo 
tioned  the  hunter  and  his  wife  confiden 
tially  to  his  side :  "  I  will  explain  the  mat 
ter  to  you  precisely  as  it  stands,"  his  light 
eyes  looking  over  their  heads  to  Jane. 

She  stood  irresolutely  a  moment,  and 
then  went  into  the  little  room  which  had 
been  set  apart  for  her.  She  could  not 
draw  her  breath  so  near  to  him. 

Van  Ness,  peering  through  the  open 
door,  saw  that  there  was  but  one  narrow 
window  inside,  opening  over  a  sheer  de- 
sce'nt  of  rocks.  "  It  is  quite  natural  that 
you  should  love  Jane  and  wish  to  defend 
her,  as  you  knew  her  when  she  was  a 


child,"  he  said,  raising  his  voice  that  she 
might  hear.  "  But  you  do  not  understand. 
She  married  me  of  her  own  free  will  by 
the  bedside  of  her  dying  father.  His  last 
act  was  to  give  her  to  me  with  his  bless 
ing.  You  can  judge  whether  he  would 
have  chosen  an  unworthy  husband  for 
her." 

"'Tain't  likely,"  said  Glenn.  But  his 
wife  shook  her  head. 

"An  hour  after  his  death  Jane  escaped: 
left  her  dead  father  —  left  me  whom  she 
loved.  The  only  rational  way  of  account 
ing  for  her  course  is  that  the  nervous 
strain  had  proved  too  much  for  her,  and 
that  she  was  temporarily  insane.  You 
can  question  her  whether  I  have  stated 
the  facts  correctly." 

The  old  people  glanced  doubtfully  in 
at  the  tall  figure  standing  motionless  at 
the  open  window. 

"She  don't  contradict  you  in  nothin", 
sir.  I'm  sorry  ef  I  was  onjust  to  you," 
said  the  old  man  slowly. 

"  I  honor  you  for  it  !  You  could  have 
no  claim  to  my  friendship  as  strong  as 
your  affection  for  my  wife." 

"Yes,"  with.  deliberation,  "we've  allays 
been  powerful  fond  of  Jane.  But  mar 
riage  is  marriage.  We  won't  interfere. 
Them  as  God  hes  jined  together  —  " 

Van  Ness  rose  :  "  I  shall  take  her  with 
me  to  Asheville.  Her  mental  trouble 
may  make  her  seem  disinclined  to  go. 
But  firmness  and  affectionate  care  will 
soon  restore  her."  He  walked  to  the 
door:  "Come,  my  dear  wife." 

Jane  turned  and  faced  him.  Her  very 
lips  seemed  withered  :  "  I  have  given  you 
the  money." 


Van  Ness  waited  smiling,  without  a 
word  after  that,  his  white  hands  held 
out. 

"Come,  my  pretty!"  whispered  the  old 
woman,  stroking  her  arm  soothingly. 
"Suppose  you  don't  like  him  so  much 
at  first?  You'll  grow  into  it.  Hundreds 
of  women  marry  without  love.  You  must 
give  up  to  the  law." 

The  law,  the  whole  world,  were  against 
her. 

Van  Ness  came  closer,  step  by  step, 
with  the  inexorable  steadiness  of  Fate  in 


A   LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


87 


his  eye.  Mrs.  Glenn  drew  back  and  left 
them  alone. 

"You  married  me." 

"I  wanted  to  give  you  the  money. 
There  was  my  mistake." 

"You  cannot  repair  it.  There  is  no 
one  to  help  you." 

She  looked  out  at  the  bare  peaks  and 
the  sky  near  at  hand,  and  raised  her 
arms,  clasping  her  hands  back  of  her 
head.  Her  lips  moved.  "  God  will  help 
me,"  Van  Ness  thought  he  heard  her  say. 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder : 
"Come.  We  must  return  to-night,  at 
least  part  of  the  way,"  with  quiet  au 
thority. 

He  drew  her  toward  him,  stooped  to 
kiss  her  lips. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  loud 
knocking  at  the  outer  door,  and  a  man 
and  woman  entered.  Van  Ness  saw 
them.  His  hand  fell  from  Jane's  arm, 
his  countenance  relaxed :  for  a  moment 
he  stood  unnerved :  then  with  quick  de 
cision  he  stepped  boldly  forward  to  meet 
them,  drawing  to  the  door  of  the  cham 
ber  behind  him. 

"  Charlotte  ?" 

"Yes,"  with  a  shrug,  "or  Princess  Tre- 
bizoff,  Madame  Varens,  what  you  choose. 
By  any  other  name  I  am  as  dear  to  you. 
Heavens  !  what  a  chase  !"  perching  her 
self  airily  on  the  settle  in  front  of  the  fire. 
"I  am  one  living  ache. — I  can't  congrat 
ulate  you  on  your  roads,  madam.  But 
your  scenery !  Ah,  that  goes  to  the 
heart!" 

Mr.  Neckart  stood  beside  her,  calmly 
waiting  until  Van  Ness  should  turn  to 
him.  The  great  reformer  was  brought 
to  bay :  he  was  alert,  prompt,  ready. 

"  You  followed  me  here,  Mr.  Neckart  ?" 
turning  sharply. 

"Yes." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?" 

"To  bring  your  wife  to  you,"  glancing 
at  Charlotte. 

"  I  inferred  that  was  the  story  which 
this  poor  creature  had  imposed  upon  you. 
Surely,  you  know  her  character,  Neckart  ? 
Why,  she  has  levied  blackmail  for  years 
by  just  such  ingenious  devices.  I  did  not 
suppose  any  statement  of  hers  would  bear 
a  minute's  investigation  from  a  shrewd, 


practical  man  like  yourself.  So  she  real 
ly  deceived  you,  eh  ?"  with  a  discordant 
laugh. 

Charlotte,  drying  her  dainty  feet  at 
the  fire,  looked  contemptuously  over  her 
shoulder  at  him. 

"  There  is  no  need  of  any  discussion  in 
the  matter,"  said  Neckart  dryly.  "We 
are  not  here  to  play  melodrama.  The 
matter  is  easily  understood.  I  returned 
from  Europe  last  week,  and  went  direct 
to  the  Hemlock  Farm.  From  the  ser 
vants  I  heard  the  details  of  the  forced 
marriage  and  of  Jane's  flight.  I  follow 
ed  her." 

"How  did  you  find  her  here?" 

"  Betty  Nichols  knew  that  she  was 
coming." 

"  Damn  her !  She  hid  it  from  me,  her 
husband !" 

Neckart  stepped  hastily  forward,  then 
controlled  himself  and  drew  back  :  "  She 
had  given  the  route  to  Charlotte  also. 
I  overtook  her  at  Baltimore.  She  had 
stopped  to  obtain  legal  proof  of  your 
marriage  to  her  in  1847.  We  followed 
an  hour  behind  you  from  Richmond." 

Even  in  this  imminent  moment  Van 
Ness  secretly  wondered  how  this  passion 
ate  brute  of  a  Neckart  held  himself  in 
check  and  talked  coolly  to  the  man  who 
had  stolen  from  him  the  woman  that  he 
loved.  It  would  have  been  in  character 
for  him  to  tear  his  life  out,  like  Bruno. 
But  this  was  admirable  self-command! 
It  really  gratified  Van  Ness's  taste,  totter 
ing  on  the  verge  of  ruin  as  he  was.  The 
truth  was,  that  Neckart  was  conscious  of 
little  else  than  that  Jane  was  in  the  hut. 
The  rage  against  this  scoundrel  which 
had  maddened  him  through  the  long 
journey  had  strangely  died  out.  He  had 
not  harmed  her.  He  was  like  a  fangless 
snake,  to  be  trampled  under  foot  at  any 
moment. 

But  she  was  there !  He  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  proud,  delicate  head 
and  its  crown  of  yellow  hair  behind  the 
door  as  Van  Ness  closed  it. 

The  door  moved.  It  opened,  and  she 
came  out  among  them.  Neckart  rose, 
his  head  bent  upon  his  breast.  He  was 
deaf  and  blind  for  the  time — could  not 
tell  whether  she  spoke  to  him  or  not. 


88 


A   LAW  UNTO  HEKSELF. 


She  went  directly  up  to  Van  Ness  :  "  I 
am  not  your  wife  ?" 

He  cowered  for  a  moment.  Then, 
rapidly  shifting  his  defence,  he  stood  up, 
benevolent,  impregnable  :  "  I  do  not  de 
ny  that  I  was  once  married  to  this  wo 
man.  It  was  a  mad  error  of  my  youth, 
long  since  repented  of.  I  was  divorced 
from  her  last  June." 

"Ta,  ta,  Pliny,  take  care!"  interrupt 
ed  Charlotte.  "The  application  for  di 
vorce  was  not  made  until  after  your  mar 
riage  to  Miss  Swendon.  I  told  you  you 
would  not  risk  a  criminal  trial  for  her 
sake.  But  I  underrated  your  affection. 
You  did  it." 

"Then  I  am  free  ?"  said  Jane. 

"You  are  free,"  said  Charlotte. 

Jane  turned  to  the  door  and  went  into 
the  open  air  without  a  word. 

"  I  took  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  come 
here,"  resumed  Charlotte,  brushing  some 
dust  from  her  flounces,  "  to  tell  her  that. 
I  shouldn't  have  done  it  for  any  other 
woman.  But  you  remember  that  day 
when  I  was  shamming  death,  how  she 
kissed  me,  Pliny  ?  I  didn't  forget  that 
kiss." 

Van  Ness  stood  silent,  hesitating.  The 
firelight  shone  upon  his  tall  figure,  the 
dainty  gray  clothes,  the  shining  stone,  like 
a  watchful  evil  eye,  upon  his  breast.  He 
was  a  perfect  presentation  of  prosperity 
and  peace.  He  looked  at  Neckart,  but 
he  was  looking  through  the  open  door  at 
a  slight  figure  moving  among  the  rocks. 

Van  Ness  rubbed  his  hands  softly.  "  I 
do  not  see,"  he  said  with  unctuous  pre 
cision,  "that  further  discussion  will  be  of 
any  use  in  this  matter.  I  was  evidently 
mistaken  as  to  point  of  time  in  the  di 
vorce.  No  one  who  knows  me  will  sus 
pect  me  of  any  worse  error  than  a  mis 
take.  I  will  accompany  you  to  Ashe- 
ville,  Charlotte,  with  pleasure.  I  owe 
you  no  grudge  for  the  bitter  wrong  you 
,  have  done  me." 

Charlotte  rose  and  laughed  good-na 
turedly  :  "You  have  your  virtues,  no  doubt, 
Pliny.  So  have  I.  I  always  thought  we 
were  well  mated.  Shall  we  continue  one  ? 
You  may  have  to  fall  back  upon  my  black 
mailing  devices,  after  all.  I  forgot  to  tell 
you  that  there  was  an  inquiry  last  week 


into  the  disposition  of  the  funds  entrusted 
to  you  for  the  Home  for  Friendless  Chil 
dren,  and  that  they  were  reported  nil" 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Van  Ness 
blenched.  The  story  of  the  marriage 
could  be  smothered.  But  this  was  total 
ruin. 

"The  sooner  you  go  the  better,"  said 
the  hunter,  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder. 
"Ef  I  understand  right,  you're  not  the 
kind  of  man  as  ought  to  pizen  these 
mountings  long." 

Van  Ness  moved  heavily  to  the  door. 
But  he  turned  on  the  threshold  with  a 
sickly  smile :  "  I  forgive  you  your  rude 
ness,  my  friend.  It  is  not  my  nature 
to  bear  malice. — Farewell,  Mr.  Neckart. 
You  have  mistaken  my  motives  in  this 
matter.  But  I  shall  think  of  you  kindly. — 
I  shall  bear  you  all  to  the  throne  of  grace 
in  my  prayers."  He  shook  his  hand  as 
if  scattering  blessings,  and  went  out  with 
a  lofty  step  and  head  erect. 

Charlotte  lingered  and  went  up  to 
Neckart. 

"You  are  going  to  cling  to  that  poor 
wretch  ?"  he  said. 

"  Well,  he's  down  now,  you  see. 
There's  nobody  but  me  to  stay  by  him. 
And  I  can  always  draw  on  him  when 
I'm  out  of  funds." 

"You  will  remember  what  I  told  you 
of  the  school  in  Indiana  ?  You  could 
live  in  respectability  and  comfort ;  bring 
your  boy  home  too." 

"My  boy?  Home?"  Her  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  "These  are  very  tempting 
words,  Mr.  Neckart.  But  oh-h !  Re 
spectability  is  such  a  bore !  I  must  go 
my  own  gait  to  the  end ;"  and  with  a 
merry  laugh  and  shrug  she  followed 
Van  Ness. 

When  they  were  out  of  sight  down  the 
gorge,  Neckart  rose  and  went  slowly  out 
to  the  cleft  in  the  rock  where  the  girl  sat 
alone. 

"Jane,"  he  said,  "the  way  is  open  be 
tween  us  at  last.  Will  you  come  to  me  ?" 

I  cannot  write  Finis  to  the  story  of  any 
of  these  people.  They  are  all  alive  to 
day,  and  the  current  of  each  life  goes  on 
with  very  little  change. 

You  may  still  see  Van  Ness  on  the  plat- 


A    LAW  UNTO  HERSELF. 


89 


form  at  all  large  religious  or  benevolent 
meetings  in  the  great  cities.  There  was 
much  talk  of  the  missing  funds,  but  he 
quieted  it  satisfactorily.  Cynical  report 
ers  throw  out  hints  of  ugly  shadows  in 
his  life,  but  his  disciples  gather  more 
solidly  about  him,  trust  their  souls  to  his 
direction  and  their  money  to  his  pockets. 
Simple  followers  of  Jesus  fear  to  condemn 
a  light  which  shines  so  splendidly  in  the 
market-place,  and  men  who  are  not  His 
followers  accept  it  as  Christianity,  and 
damn  the  religion  as  spurious  and  a 
fraud. 

Charlotte  is  just  now  the  successful 
leader  of  an  English  opera-bouffe  com 
pany  which  is  travelling  in  the  West. 
She  gave  the  proceeds  of  her  benefit  in 
every  town  to  the  poor  last  winter,  which 
was  supposed  by  all  respectable  people 
to  be  an  advertising  trick.  But  it  was 
not.  The  little  woman  would  do  more 
than  that  to  buy  herself  an  entrance  into 
the  heaven  where  her  boy  is  going.  She 
would  do  anything,  in  fact,  but  lead  a 
decent  life. 

Miss  Fleming  is  still  in  Rome.  She 
belongs  to  the  modern  school  which  re 
gards  the  nice  reproduction  of  drapery 
and  dry  goods  as  the  highest  art.  She 
sends  home  pictures,  which  sometimes 
gain  a  place  by  sufferance  in  a  dark 
corner  at  the  spring  exhibition. 

Mr.  Neckart  once  bought  one,  a  La 
dy  s  Toilette. 

"A  fair  specimen  of  the  millinery  cult," 
he  said,  showing  it  to  Judge  Rhodes. 
"Poor  Cornelia!  Why  is  it  that  she 
never,  even  by  chance,  paints  a  clean- 
minded  woman  ?"  He  sent  a  cheque 
for  double  the  price  asked  for  it.  But  he 
threw  the  picture  on  the  market  again, 
not  wishing  to  take  it  home.  He  had 
married  a  singularly  clean-minded  wo 
man. 

Cornelia's  first  impulse  was  to  send  the 
cheque  back.  But,  instead,  she  bought  a 
ring  with  a  single  costly  ruby  in  it,  and 
has  worn  it  ever  since,  though  she  has 
been  hungry  for  bread  many  a  time. 


Hungry  or  not,  she  makes  her  studio  one 
of  the  pleasantest  resorts  for  the  young 
artists  in  Rome.  She  has  cut  her  hair 
short,  wears  a  jaunty  velvet  coat  and 
man's  collar :  her  arms  are  bony,  but  she 
bares  them,  and  still  shoots  languishing 
glances  from  out  of  the  crowsfeet.  The 
young  men  laugh  to  each  other.  "A  good 
fellow,  Corny,"  they  say,  "but  what  a  pity 
that  she  is  not  a  man  !" 

The  Home  for  Friendless  Children  is 
at  last  a  reality  in  New  York,  though 
Van  Ness  is  not  a  director.  It  was  es 
tablished  by  the  editor  Neckart,  whose 
wife,  it  is  said,  endowed  it  with  her  own 
fortune.  This  charitable  deed  left  them 
with  but  a  very  moderate  competency. 
Neckart  managed  to  buy  in  the  Hem 
lock  Farm,  out  of  his  income,  for  her 
and  the  boy. 

He  drives  them  over  once  a  week  to 
see  the  children  in  the  Home,  each  of 
whom  Jane  knows  and  tries  to  spoil. 

"You  are  glad  that  we  made  this  act 
of  reparation,  Jane  ?"  he  said  to  her  one 
day. 

"  Reparation  ?"  She  hesitated,  and 
then  said,  "I  know  that  I  made  many 
mistakes  when  I  was  a  law  to  myself. 
You  are  my  law  now,  Bruce." 

"  But  you  are  satisfied  that  it  was  right 
to  give  back  the  money  ?"  he  insisted. 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  The  money  was  un 
lucky  !  It  made  you  uncomfortable  too. 
And  I  look  on  it  as  a  free  gift  from  Swen- 
don  here  to  the  poor  little  babies,"  taking 
her  boy  on  her  knee  and  stroking  his 
curls.  "But,"  she  added  in  a  low  voice, 
"the  money  was  mine.  I  was  quite  right 
when  I  burned  the  will." 

Neckart  laughed  good-humoredly,  and 
touched  the  horses  with  his  whip.  There 
is  no  man  living  who  loves  his  wife  more 
tenderly;  and  Jane  is  the  most  simple 
and  prosaic  of  women.  Yet  there  are 
times  when  she  seems,  even  to  him,  a  wo 
man  whose  acquaintance  he  has  scarce 
ly  made,  and  whom  he  can  never  hope 
to  know  better. 


J.  B,  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO.,  PHILADELPHIA. 


THE  WORKS  OF  E.  MARLITT. 


THE  OLD  MAMSELLE'S  SECRET. 

From  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT,  author  of 
"  Gold  Elsie,"  etc.  By  Mrs.  A.  L.  Wis- 
TER.  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  A  more  charming  story,  and  one  which,  having 
once  commenced,  it  seemed  more  difficult  to  leave, 
we  have  not  met  with  for  many  a  day." — Tke 
Round  Table. 

"  Is  one  of  the  most  intense,  concentrated,  com 
pact  novels  of  the  day.  .  .  And  the  work  has  the 
minute  fidelity  of  the  author  of  '  The  Initials,'  the 
dramatic  unity  of  Reade,  and  the  graphic  power 
of  George  Eliot." — Columbus  (O.)  Journal. 

GOLD  ELSIE. 

PVom  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT,  author  of 
"The  Old  Mam'selle's  Secret,"  etc.  By 
Mrs.  A.  L.  WISTER.  12010.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  A  charming  book.  It  absorbs  your  attention 
from  the  title-page  to  the  end." — The  Home  Circle. 

"A  charming  story  charmingly  told." — Balti 
more  Gazette. 

COUNTESS  GISELA. 

From  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT,  author  of 
"  Gold  Elsie,"  etc.  By  Mrs.  A.  L.  WIS 
TER.  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  There  is  more  dramatic  power  in  this  than  in 
uny  of  the  stories  by  the  same  author  that  we  have 
"ead." — N.  O.  Times. 

"  The  best  work  by  this  author." — Philadelphia 
Telegraph, 


THE    LITTLE      MOORLAND     FRIN- 

CESS.  From  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT, 
author  of  "  The  Old  Mam'selle's  Secret," 
etc.  By  Mrs.  A.  L.  WISTER.  121110.  Fine 
cloth.  $1.50. 

."  By  far  the  best  foreign  romance  of  the  season." 
— Philadelphia  Press. 

"  It  is  a  great  luxury  to  give  one's  self  up  to  its 
balmy  influence." — Chicago  Evening  Journal. 

OVER  YONDER. 

From  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT,  author  of 
"  Countess  Gisela,"  etc.  With  a  full-page 
Illustration.  8vo.  Paper  cover.  30  cents. 

"  '  Over  Yonder'  is  a  charming  novelette.  The 
admirers  of  '  Old  Mam'selle's  Secret'  will  give  it  a 
glad  reception,  while  those  who  are  ignorant  of  the 
merits  of  this  author  will  find  in  it  a  pleasant  intro 
duction  to  the  works  of  a  gifted  writer." — Daily 
Sentinel. 

MAGDALENA. 

From  the  German  of  E.  MARLITT,  author  of 
"Countess  Gisela,"  etc.  And  THE 
LONELY  ONES.  From  the  German  of 
PAUL  HEVSE.  With  two  Illustrations. 
8vo.  Paper  cover.  35  cents. 

"  We  know  of  no  way  in  which  a  leisure  hour 
may  be  more  pleasantly  whiled  away  than  by  a 
perusal  of  either  of  these  tales." — Indianapolis 
Sentinel. 


ONLY  A  GIRL. 

A  Romance.  From  the  German  of  WILHEL- 
MINE  VON  HILLERN.  By  Mrs.  A.  L.  WIS 
TER.  I2mo.  Fine  cloth.  $1.75. 

"This  is  a  charming  work,  charmingly  written, 
and  no  one  who  reads  it  can  lay  it  down  without 
Teeling  impressed  with  the  superior  talent  of  its 
gifted  author.  As  a  work  of  fiction  it  will  com 
pare  favorably  in  style  and  interest  with  the  best 
efforts  of  the  most  gifted  writers  of  the  day,  while 
in  the  purity  of  its  tone  and  the  sound  moral 
lesson  it  teaches  it  is  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any 
work  of  the  character  that  has  for  years  come 
under  our  notice." — Pittsburg  Dispatch. 

"  Timely,  forcible,  and  possessing  far  more 
than  ordinary  merits." — Philadelphia,  North  Amer 
ican, 


BY  HIS  OWN  MIGHT. 

A  Romance.      Translated  from  the  German 

of   WlLHELMINE  VON    HlLLERN,  author  of 

"Only  a  Girl,"  etc.      I2ino.     Fine  cloth. 

I.SO. 

"  The  story  is  well  constructed.  It  is  vivacious, 
intricate,  and  well  sustained.  .  .  .  It  is  one  of 
the  best  of  the  many  excellent  novels  from  the  Ger 
man  issued  by  this  house." — Phila.  Ev.  Bulletin. 

A  TWOFOLD  LIFE. 

From  the  German  of  WlLHELMINE  VON  HlL- 
LERN,  author  of  "  Only  a  Girl,"  etc.  I2mo. 
With  Portrait.  Fine  cloth.  $1.50. 

"  A  capital  novel,  admirably  written.  None  will 
arise  from  its  perusal  without  acknowledging  the 
strength  and  brilliancy  of  its  writer."  —  Boston 
Gazette. 


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ZtTO'VELS 


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BLANCHE  GILROY. 

By  MARGARET  HOSMER,  author  of  "  The 
Morrisons,"  "Ten  Years  of  a  Lifetime," 
etc.  I2mo.  Extra  cloth.  $1.50. 

"It  is  a  love  story  of  the  intense  and  tragical 
sort,  with  a  deep  plot  and  any  amount  of  stirring 
incident.  The  characters  are  drawn  with  much 
distinctness  and  vigor,  and  the  story  sweeps  on  to 
its  end  amid  a  rushing  whirl  of  cross-purposes  with 
decoying  fascination." — Boston  Advertiser. 

THE  HOLCOMBES. 

A  Story  of  Virginia  Home-Life.  By  MARY 
TUCKER  MAGILL.  xamo.  Extra  cloth. 

£i-5°. 

"  This  book  is  written  from  an  elevated  point  of 
view,  both  as  to  its  society  and  scenery.  .  .  We 
find  it  an  interesting  story.  .  .  .  The  tone  of 
this  work  is  admirable,  and  we  shall  be  glad  to  hear 
again  from  the  author." — Philadelphia  Age. 

LEFT  TO  HERSELF. 

By  JENNIE  WOODVILLE.  i2mo.  Extra  cloth. 
$1-25. 

"  Such  a  spicy  mixture  of  ingredients  as  this 
book  contains  cannot  fail  to  make  an  exciting  story ; 
and  as  the  plot  is  well  conceived,  the  characters 
well  drawn,  and  the  interest  well  sustained  to  the 
end,  without  degenerating  into  the  melodramatic, 
we  are  disposed  to  recommend  to  others  a  book 
which  we  ourselves  have  found  captivating  enough 
to  burn  the  midnight  gas  over." — Philadelphia 
Evening  Bulletin. 

ELEONORE. 

A  Romance.  After  the  German  of  E.  VON 
ROTHENFELS,  author  of  "On  the  Vistula," 
"  Heath-flower,"  etc.  By  FRANCES  ELIZA 
BETH  BENNETT,  translator  of  "  Lowly 
Ways."  I2mo.  Fine  cloth.  $1.50. 

"  A  vivid  reproduction  of  German  life  and  char- 
»cter." — Boston  Globe. 

"  The  plot  is  developed  with  remarkable  skill." — 
Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

TOM  PIPPIN'S  "WEDDING. 

By  the  Author  of  "  The  Fight  at  Dame 
Europa's  School."  i6mo.  Extra  cloth, 
$1.25.  Paper  cover,  75  cents. 

"  We  must  confess  that  its  perusal  has  caused  us 
more  genuine  amusement  than  we  have  derived 
from  any  fiction,  not  professedly  comic,  for  many  a 
long  day.  .  .  .  Without  doubt  this  is,  if  not 
the  most  remarkable,  certainly  the  most  original, 
novel  of  the  day." — London  Bookseller. 


WAS  SHE  ENGAGED  ? 

By  "JONQUIL."    I2mo.    Extra  cloth.    £1.25. 

"  A  pleasant,  bright,  and  sparkling  story." — Bal 
timore  Gazette. 

"  Every  one  seems  to  be  going  for  '  Was  She 
Engaged?'  " — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

LOST  AND  SAVED. 

By  Hon.  Mrs.  NORTON.  New  Edition.  I2mo. 
Cloth.  $1.25. 

"  Remarkably  well  written ;  .  .  .  very  read 
able." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  The  best  novel  that  Mrs.  Norton  has  written." 
— Baltimore  Gazette. 

IRENE. 

A  Tale  of  Southern  Life.  Illustrated ;  and 
HATHAWAY  STRANGE.  8vo.  Paper 
cover.  35  cents. 

"  They  are  both  cleverly  written." — New  Orleans 
Times. 

"  These  stories  are  pleasantly  written.  They  are 
lively,  gossipy,  and  genial." — Baltimore  Gazette. 

WEARITHORNE ; 

Or,  In  the  Light  of  To-Day.    By  "  FADETTE," 
author  of  "  Ingemisco"    and    "  Randolph 
Honor."     I2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.50. 
"  Written  with  exceptional  dramatic  vigor  and 
terseness,  and  with  strong  powers  of  personation." 
— Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  It  is  written  with  vigor,  and  the  characters  are 
sketched  with  a  marked  individuality." — Literary 
Gazette. 

STEPS  UPWARD. 

A  Temperance  Tale.     By  Mrs.  F.  D.  GAGE, 

author   of  "Elsie  Magoon,"    etc.     I2mo. 

Extra  cloth.     $1.50. 

" '  Steps  Upward,'  by  Mrs.  Frances  Dana  Gage, 
is  a  temperance  story  of  more  than  ordinary  inter 
est.  Diana  Dinmont,  the  heroine,  is  an  earnest, 
womanly  character,  and  in  her  own  upward  pro 
gress  helps  many  another  to  a  better  life." — New 
York  Independent. 

MINNA  MONTH 

By "  STELLA."     I2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $1.25. 

"  A  domestic  story  possessing  great  spirit  and 
many  other  attractive  features." — St.  Louis  Repub 
lican. 

"  We  have  in  this  little  volume  an  agreeable 
story,  pleasantly  told." — Piltsburg  Gazette. 


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DOROTHY  FOX. 

By  LOUISA  PARR,  author  of  "  Hero  Carthew," 
etc.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  8vo. 
Paper  cover,  75  cents.  Extra  cloth,  $1.25. 

"  Such  an  artist  is  the  author  of  '  Dorothy  Fox,' 
and  we  must  thank  her  for  a  charming  novel. 
The  story  is  dramatically  interesting,  and  the 
characters  are  drawn  with  a  firm  and  graceful 
hand.  The  style  is  fresh  and  natural,  vigorous 
without  vulgarity,  simple  without  mawkishness. 
Dorothy  herself  is  represented  as  charming  all 
hearts,  and  she  will  charm  all  readers.  .  .  We 
wish  'Dorothy  Fox'  many  editions."  —  London 
Times. 

"  One  of  the  best  novels  of  the  season." — 
Philadelphia  Press. 

"  It  is  admirably  told,  and  will  establish  the  repu 
tation  of  the  author  among  novelists." — Albany 
Argus. 

JOHN  THOMPSON,  BLOCKHEAD, 

And  Companion  Portraits.    By  LOUISA  PARR, 
author  of  "  Dorothy  Fox."     I2mo.     With 
Frontispiece.     Extra  cloth.     $1.25. 
"  Extremely  well-told  stories,  interesting  in  char 
acters  and  incidents,  and  pure  and  wholesome  in 
sentiment." — Boston  Watchman  and  Reflector. 

1:They  are  quite  brilliant  narrative  sketches, 
worthy  of  the  reputation  established  by  the  writer." 
— Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"WHY  DID  HE  NOT  DIE? 

Or,  The  Child  from  the  Ebraergang.     From 
the  German  of  AD.  VON  VOLCKHAUSEN. 
By  Mrs.  A.  L.  WISTER,  translator  of  "  Old 
Mam'selle's  Secret,"    "  Gold    Elsie,"  etc. 
I2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $1.75. 
"  Few  recently  published  novels  have  received 
more  general  perusal  and  approval  than  '  Only  a 
Girl;'  and  'Why  Did  He  Not  Die?'  possesses  in 
at  least  an  equal  degree  all  the  elements  of  popu 
larity.     From  the  beginning  to  the  end  the  interest 
never   flags,   and   the   characters  and  scenes   are 
drawn  with  great  warmth  and  power." — New  York 
Herald. 

THE  DAUGHTER  OP  AN  EGYPTIAN 

KING.  An  Historical  Romance.  Translated 
from  the  German  of  GEORGE  EBERS  by 
HENRY  REED.  I2mo.  Extra  cloth.  $1.75. 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  production.  There  have 
been  ancient  novels  before  now,  but  none,  accord 
ing  to  our  recollections,  so  antique  as  this." — New 
York  World. 

"  The  plot  is  a  most  interesting  one,  and  in  its 
development  we  are  given  an  accurate  insight  into 
the  social  and  political  life  of  the  Egyptians  of  that 
time."— Boston  Evening  Traveller. 


AT  THE  ALTAR. 

A  Romance.  From  the  German  of  E.  WER 
NER,  author  of  "Hermann,"  "The  Hero 
of  the  Pen,"  etc.  By  J.  S.  L.  I2mo. 
Fine  cloth,  ornamented.  $1.25. 

"A  vigorous,  graphic  picture  of  German  life." — 
Home  yournal. 

"  A  striking  story,  well  conceived,  powerfully 
written,  and  finely  translated." — Trade  Circular. 

THROWN  TOGETHER. 

A  Story.  By  FLORENCE  MONTGOMERY, 
author  of  "  Misunderstood,"  "  A  Very 
Simple  Story,"  etc.  I2mo.  Fine  cloth. 

ll-SO. 

"  The  author  of  '  Misunderstood'  has  given  us 
another  charming  story  of  child-life.  This,  how 
ever,  is  not  a  book  for  children." — London  Athe- 
nceum. 

"  A  delightful  story,  founded  upon  the  lives  of 
children.  There  is  a  thread  of  gold  in  it  upon 
which  are  strung  many  lovely  sentiments.  .  .  One 
cannot  read  this  book  without  being  better  for  it, 
or  without  a  more  tender  charity  being  stirred  up 
in  his  heart." — Washington  Daily  Chronicle. 

PEMBERTON ; 

Or,  One  Hundred  Years  Ago.  By  HENRY 
PETERSON.  I2mo.  Extra  cloth.  $1.25. 

"  One  of  the  most  attractive  works  of  fiction 
issued  this  season."  —  Philadelphia  Evening  Bul 
letin. 

EXPIATION. 

By  Mrs.  J.  C.  R.  DORR,  author  of  "  Sybil 
Huntington,"  etc.  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  A  work  of  absorbing  interest." — Boston  Gazette. 
"A  story  of  mystery,  and   almost  tragedy,  in 
tensely  portrayed." —  Washington  Chronicle. 

ERMA'S  ENGAGEMENT. 

By  the  author  of"  Blanche  Seymour."  8vo. 
Paper,  75  cents.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  Is  a  thoroughly  readable  book." — Appletons' 
Journal. 

"  The  style  is  fresh  and  entertaining,  and  the 
various  characters  are  sketched  with  great  anima 
tion." — Boston  Gazette. 

"NOT  PRETTY,  BUT  PRECIOUS," 

And  other  Short  Stories.  By  Popular 
Writers.  Illustrated.  8vo.  Paper  cover. 
50  cents. 

"  Deserving  of  wide-spread  and  lasting  popu 
larity." —  Cincinnati  Chronicle. 


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ICTO'VELS 


BY 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO.,  PHILADELPHIA. 


FERNYHURST  COURT. 

Aa  Every-day  Story.  By  the  author  of 
"  Stone  Edge,"  "  Lettice  Lisle,"  etc.  With 
numerous  Illustrations.  8vo.  Paper  cover. 
60  cents. 

"  An  excellent  novel  of  English  society,  with 
many  good  engravings." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  An  excellent  story." — Boston  Journal.         * 

CROSS  PURPOSES. 

A  Christmas  Experience  in  Seven  Stages. 
By  T.  C.  DE  LEON.  With  Illustrations. 
l6mo.  Tinted  paper.  Extra  cloth.  $1.25. 

"  The  plot  is  most  skillfully  handled,  and  the 
style  is  bright  and  sparkling." — New  York  Com 
mercial  Advertiser. 

HIMSELF  HIS  "WORST  ENEMY; 

Or,  Philip,  Duke  of  Wharton's  Career.  By 
ALFRED  P.  BROTHERHEAD.  i2mo.  Fine 
cloth.  $2.00. 

"  The  story  is  very  entertaining  and  very  well 
told."— Boston  Post. 

"  The  author  is  entitled  to  high  praise  for  this 
creditable  work." — Philadelphia  Ledger. 

THE  STRUGGLE  IN  FERRARA. 

A  Story  of  the  Reformation  in  Italy.  By 
WILLIAM  GILBERT,  author  of  "  De  Pro- 
fundis,"  etc.  Profusely  Illustrated.  8vo. 
Paper  cover,  $1.00.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Few  works  of  religious  fiction  compare  with 
this  in  intensity,  reality,  and  value." — Philadelphia 
North  American. 

•IT  IS  THE  FASHION." 

A  Novel.     From  the  German  of  ADELHEID 
VON  AUER.     By  the  translator  of  "Over 
Yonder,"  "  Magdalena,"  "  The  Old  Count 
ess,"  etc.     I2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $1.50. 
"  It  is  one  of  the  most  charming  books  of  the 
times,  and  is  admirable  for  its  practical,  wise,  and 
beautiful  morality.     A  more  natural  and  graceful 
work  of  its  kind  we  never  before  read." — Richmond 
Dispatch. 

"  It  is  a  most  excellent  book,  abounding  in  pure 
sentiment  and  beautiful  thought,  and  written  in  a 
style  af  once  lucid,  graceful,  and  epigrammatic." — 
New  York  Evening  Mail. 

WHAT  WILL  THE  WORLD  SAY? 

A  Novel  of  Every-day  Life.  By  Ojos  Mo- 
RENOS,  J2mo,  Cloth.  #1.50. 


MARGUERITE  KENT. 

A  Novel.  By  MARION  W.  WAYNE.  I2m<x 
Fine  cloth.  $2.00. 

"  Is  a  novel  of  thought  as  well  as  of  action,  of 
the  inner  as  well  as  of  the  outer  life." — New  York 
Evening  Mail. 

"  The  plot  is  novel  and  ingenious." — Portland 
Transcript. 

IN  EXILE. 

A  Novel.  Translated  from  the  German  of 
W.  VON  ST.  I2mo.  Fine  cloth.  $2.00. 

"  No  more  interesting  work  of  fiction  has  been 
issued  for  some  time." — St.  Louis  Democrat. 

"  A  feast  for  heart  and  imagination." — Philadel 
phia  Evening  Bulletin. 

DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES. 

A  Novel.  By  J.  R.  HADERMANN,  author 
of  "Forgiven  at  Last."  I2mo.  Fine 
cloth.  $2.00. 

"  One  of  the  best  novels  of  the  season." — Phila 
delphia  Press. 

"  One  of  the  best  novels  descriptive  of  life  at 
the  South  that  has  yet  been  published.  The  plot 
is  well  contrived,  the  characters  well  contrasted, 
and  the  dialogue  crisp  and  natural."  — Baltimore 
Gazette. 

ISRAEL  MORT,  OVERMAN. 

A  Story  of  the. Mine.  By  JOHN  SAUNDERS, 
author  of  "  Abel  Drake's  \Vife."  Illus 
trated.  l6mo.  Fine  cloth.  $1.25. 

"  Intensely  dramatic.  .  .  .  Some  of  the  char 
acters  are  exquisitely  drawn,  and  show  the  hand 
of  a  master." — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"  The  book  takes  a  strong  hold  on  the  reader's 
attention  from  the  first,  and  the  interest  does  not 
flag  for  a  moment." — Boston  Globe. 

IN  THE  RAPIDS. 

A  Romance.  By  GERALD  HART.  lamo. 
Toned  Paper.  Extra  cloth.  $1.50. 

"  Full  of  tragic  interest." — Cincinnati  Gazette. 

"  It  is,  on  the  whole,  remarkably  well  told,  and 
is  particularly  notable  for  its  resemblance  to  those 
older  and,  in  some  respects,  better  models  of  com 
position  in  which  the  dialogue  is  subordinated  to 
the  narrative,  and  the  effects  are  wrought  out  by 
the  analytical  powers  of  the  writer." — Baltimort 
Gazette. 

UNDER  THE  SURFACE. 
A  Novel.    By  EMMA  M.  CONNELLY.     I2mo. 
Fine  cloth.     $1.50. 


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OUIDA'S 

TRICOTRIN. 

The  Story  of  a  Waif  and  Stray.  By  "OuiDA." 
With  Portrait  of  the  Author  from  an  En 
graving  on  Steel.  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  The  story  is  full  of  vivacity  and  of  thrilling 
interest. " — Pittsburg  Gazette. 

"  Tricotrin  is  a  work  of  absolute  power,  some 
truth,  and  deep  interest." — N.  Y.  Day  Book. 

"  The  book  abounds  in  beautiful  sentiment, 
expressed  in  a  concentrated,  compact  style  which 
cannot  fail  to  be  attractive,  and  will  be  read  with 
pleasure  in  every  household."  —  San  Fran.  Times. 

GRANVILLE  DE  VIGNE; 

Or,  Held  in  Bondage.  A  Tale  of  the  Day. 
By"  OUIDA."  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  spicy 
works  of  fiction  which  the  present  century,  so  pro 
lific  in  light  literature,  has  produced." 

STRATHMORE ; 

Or,  Wrought  by  His  Own  Hand.  By 
"  OUIDA."  i2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  It  is  a  romance  of  the  intense  school,  but  it  is 
written  with  more  power,  fluency,  and  brilliancy 
than  the  works  of  Miss  Braddon  and  Mrs.  Wood, 
while  its  scenes  and  characters  are  taken  from  high 
life." — Boston  Transcript. 

ID  ALIA. 

By  "  OUIDA,"  author  of  "  Under  Two  Flags," 
etc.  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  It  is  a  story  of  love  and  hatred,  of  affection 
and  jealousy,  of  intrigue  and  devotion.  .  .  We 
think  this  novel  will  attain  a  wide  popularity, 
especially  among  those  whose  refined  taste  enables 
them  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  what  is  truly  beau 
tiful  in  literature." — Albany  Evening  Journal. 

UNDER  TWO  FLAGS. 

A  Story  of  the  Household  and  the  Desert. 
By"  OUIDA."  I2mo.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

"  No  one  will  be  able  to  resist  its  fascination 
who  once  begins  its  perusal." — Phila.  Evening 
L'ulletin. 

"  This  is  probably  the  most  popular  work  of 
'  Ouida.'  It  is  enough  of  itself  to  establish  her  fame 
as  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  graphic  writers  of 
fiction  now  living." — Chicago  Journal  of  Commerce. 

PUCK. 

His  Vicissitudes,  Adventures,  Observations, 
Conclusions,  Friendships,  and  Philosophies. 
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